Category Archives: Endangered Species

Saving Birds. It’s Time.

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In just the past year, protecting birds has reached a new level of urgency. Please read and share this post with as many people as possible. Thank you!

First off, I want to announce that thanks to all of you, Braden’s last post about the QUACH shattered records for number of views and is already SECOND all-time for our posts, trailing only Birding San Antonio’s River Walk? Are You Nuts? which we posted two-and-a-half years ago! Taylor Swift, can you feel us breathing down your popularity neck?

Probably not. The truth is, FatherSonBirding will never be as popular as Taylor Swift and other celebrities, but birds SHOULD be! As we all know, they provide millions of us a steady source of fun, interest, inspiration, and connection. Unfortunately, we also know that birds are in big trouble, not only from traditional threats such as poaching, invasive species, pesticides, and habitat loss, but from the GIANT SHADOW looming over all of us: climate change. I just read an article about the recent heat wave in the American Southwest and how it might devastate food supplies for millions of migrating birds. This is the very definition of depressing news!

How, as bird-loving, sensitive beings, do we handle what’s happening to birds and other species? It’s not easy—but it is easy to feel overwhelmed and hopeless about the world situation. If we want to save our planet’s incredible biodiversity for our children and grandchildren, however, we have to turn our worry into action. Braden and I have four strategies for doing this that we’d like to share with you.

Swallows and other migrating songbirds have been particularly hard-hit in the last year due to climatic chaos that has most likely impacted their food supplies. (Shown: Northern Rough-winged Swallow)

Strategy #1: Education. We don’t know about you, but we feel that education is the key to every problem that needs to be fixed, and birds offer almost unlimited ways to further education. Just taking a friend out birding and showing her what you know helps raise awareness and concern about what’s happening to birds and the importance of protecting and creating habitat. Taking a school class or group of seniors out magnifies that effect—and gives you a chance to correct harmful misinformation out there such as “Climate change is a plot by radicals to harm oil companies” or “Climate change is happening, but is not caused by humans”. If you want to show people just how dramatically our planet is heating up, you can go a step further and share this rock-solid website: NOAA Global Temperature Increase by Year. Our blog, we hope, helps further bird education, too. That doesn’t mean that people will always do the right thing once they have accurate information, but if we leave education up to Fox News or Breitbart, let’s face it, we’re sunk!

Grebes, ducks, and many other birds depend on “watery” refuges to survive—refuges that are coming under increasing pressure as the American West and other parts of the globe become more arid from climate change. (Shown: Eared Grebe)

Strategy #2: Money. We’re always surprised how reluctant many people are to donate money to groups working for causes they believe in. Sure, some people don’t have funds to spare, but let’s be honest, most birders do. If you find it hard to open your bank account, just ask yourself, “What kind of world will I or my children live in if I don’t help solve climate change, habitat loss, and other problems? What will my money be worth then?” The answer isn’t pretty, and yet for the price of a dinner out, we can all make a significant contribution to a group working for birds. Following is a short list of Braden’s and my favorite groups that are helping birds. Check ’em out, then crack open that wallet!

Cornell Lab of Ornithology—the maker of eBird and Merlin makes huge investments in science and education to raise awareness of birds and promote conservation.

Bird Life International—Braden’s favorite group works on the entire international spectrum of bird threats, and also works with local communities to help protect birds and habitats.

Audubon—still the biggest name in birding, Audubon promotes bird conservation and education, and works on legislation to protect birds. (Note: the national, state, and local chapters are all independent entities. Donations to national don’t trickle down, so consider donating to all three.)

American Bird Conservancy—also works on a wide range of bird-related issues including the urgent problem of outdoor cats.

Houston Audubon Society —a regional bird powerhouse, promoting bird education and conservation, and protection of vital habitats, especially for migrating birds. Think High Island from the movie The Big Year!

Union of Concerned Scientists—one of Sneed’s favorite groups, we make monthly contributions to this group working to fight rampant disinformation and promote rational, scientific solutions to a host of problems facing us.

Strategy #3: Reducing Consumption. As birders, we need to acknowledge that we use the planet’s resources by driving around looking for birds. This makes it especially important that we reduce our consumption of fuel and other resources in other ways. There are myriad ways to do this, from turning out lights to making sure we eat our leftovers to letting our grass grow a bit longer before cutting it. Braden’s and my biggest reason for avoiding fast food restaurants these days isn’t the food quality, it’s the amount of waste they generate. We know many families that have cut down on Christmas gift-buying in favor of donating to worthy causes, and that’s a trend we wholeheartedly endorse. After all, is your uncle really going to miss that singing trout on the wall? The possibilities to reduce our footprint by reducing consumption are almost endless. Please note: the idea of plastic recycling sounds good but is basically wishful thinking. According to the EPA, less than 10% of plastic is recycled. The vast majority of it ends up in landfills, where it will persist for hundreds or thousands of years—hopefully, but not necessarily, before it strangles or gets ingested by a bird. One solution: encourage your stores to carry products packaged in truly recyclable or reusable paper-based, metal, or glass containers and whenever possible, choose appropriately. Of course, always bring your own reusable bags when shopping!

Plastic waste may be killing millions of birds that ingest it. It’s also a major source of mortality for birds who, like this pelican I encountered in Texas, get tangled up in it.

Strategy #4: Let Your Politicians Know! Okay, voting for politicians who support environmental causes is a no-brainer, and let’s face it, that means voting for Democrats these days (check out this scorecard from the League of Conservation Voters). We find this partisanship mystifying since we know that millions of Republicans love birds and two presidents who enacted some of the most important environmental legislation—Teddy Roosevelt and Richard Nixon—were Republicans. (Note there are a very few current Republican officeholders with strong environmental records such as PA’s Brian Fitzpatrick. Again, see the scorecard.) Nevertheless, it’s important to let ALL of your representatives know that you support taking steps to replace carbon-emitting fuels with renewable energy, support mass transit, protect habitats, and do other things that safeguard birds and other wildlife. We write, email, and call our state and US representatives on a regular basis, and also write letters to the editor of our local paper about key issues. Don’t know who your representatives are? No need for embarrassment. Here’s a handy website for looking up your federal reps: Congress.gov Similar sites exist for each state. Just do a search on “find my representative”. Audubon, the Union of Concerned Scientists, and other groups on our list above also do an excellent job keeping us informed about important legislation and issues.

You undoubtedly can think of other strategies for helping birds, from picking up plastic litter to running for office yourself. But here’s a closing thought: by saving birds, we are saving ourselves. Some may disagree, but we feel that if the majority of bird species don’t survive, humans probably won’t either, and really, it’s time to get serious about it. If we can cultivate an attitude among birders that each time we go out birding, we will also do something to help birds, there’s going to be no stopping us. Thanks for taking action.

In saving birds, little actions lead to big results. Thank you for taking the first steps!

The Road More Pipit (Grassland Birding Part 2)

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The burbling call of a Long-billed Curlew echoed across the dry fields as my dad and I stepped out of the minivan to listen. We stood on a dirt road about 20 miles west of Malta, craning our necks as we squinted at the sky, searching for a tiny dot that might be a Sprague’s Pipit. The unnamed road ran smack-dab through the middle of some of Montana’s best pipit habitat, and after missing several other prairie and marsh specialists at Bowdoin that morning (including Baird’s and Nelson’s Sparrows and Sedge Wren), we had come here for one last-ditch effort.

Even for us, it’s hard to get our head around the fact that Long-billed Curlews we’ve seen in, say, Morro Bay, California (above) fly to the grasslands of Montana to breed. We’ll take ’em, though!

Unfortunately, we had limited pipit experience to draw on. We’d only seen one before, in a thunderstorm on a road-turned-to-gumbo last July. Nick Ramsey had spotted that bird as we had frantically knocked mud off our car wheels, so we’d never even found the species by ourselves—making locating one now seem like a long shot. Thankfully, few clouds loomed on the horizon, meaning we probably wouldn’t have to deal with another thunderstorm.

Our search tactic involved conducting five-minute point counts every half mile, getting out of the car and listening for the birds. This was how most pipits had been detected on this road in the first place, and thanks to the science project I’d worked on last summer, I knew roughly how long to stay at each place before designating it “pipitless” and moving on. 

The first couple of points produced good birds, but nothing of exceptional interest. Vesper and Grasshopper Sparrows sang from the tufts of grass along the fence, and a few acrobatic Franklin’s Gulls spun in the sky above us. At places with more dense shrubbery the dry, buzzy trills of Clay-colored Sparrows joined the grassland chorus.

Our “Road More Pipit” also boasted the greatest numbers of Lark Buntings we’ve ever seen!

Then the scenery changed. Rather than parking next to fenced-off rangeland, the habitat on the left side of the road turned into a more natural-looking swath of native shortgrass prairie. As I got out of the car, I swore that I heard what eBird describes as the sound of “a cascading waterfall of tiny pebbles.” I’d been continuously playing the song as we’d driven between points to instill it in my head, so I couldn’t tell if what I’d heard was just my own brain playing back the song of a Sprague’s Pipit or not. Then, I heard it faintly again. As my dad grabbed his camera from the car, I set off into the prairie after the sound, flushing a pair of Ring-necked Pheasant from a bush. I climbed several ridges, watching my footsteps for rattlesnakes, until it sounded like the bird flew right above me. I looked up, and suddenly saw it—a tiny speck hovering in the blue space between the clouds, singing away.

Here’s a Sprague’s Pipit—Not! If we were to show you a photo of one, it would look like a tiny dot in the sky. This American Pipit, though, looks almost identical to its much rarer cousin, so we ask that you pretend.

After showing it to my dad we just stood there watching what would have been the most incredibly boring part of birding for many people—but not for us. The pipit never descended, and instead slowly drifted further and further away until it was out of sight. We’d found a Sprague’s Pipit on our own! Of course, we knew that they were in the area, but locating an individual bird was still no small task!

The pipit was just the beginning of the prairie species we spotted on that road. As we kept driving, we began to pass large numbers of displaying Lark Buntings, which flew up about five feet before floating down, compared to the pipit’s display hundreds of feet above the earth. We passed a cattle grate, flushing a quintuplet of Sharp-tailed Grouse, several of which posed on the side of the road for us. Some of the Lark Buntings flashed white rumps, revealing themselves to be Bobolinks instead, which had a very similar display to the buntings, and in a very short-cut grain field I spotted three Chestnut-collared Longspurs. We’d ticked off most of Montana’s prairie birds on just this one road! Thrilled and relieved by our success, we got back on Highway 2 headed west, ready for the birds of Glacier National Park.

There’s no better reason to celebrate than finding your very own Sprague’s Pipit—though maybe graduating high school comes close!

Great Grassland Birding

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Please share this post. Prairie birds will thank you!

After our Montana Big Year last year, Braden and I opted not to simply chase a high species count this year. In 2021 we decided to a) explore new places b) find some new Life Birds and c) revisit favorite birds we’d spent time with before. When we set off on our five-day central Montana trip last week, however, neither of us realized what a rich grasslands experience we would encounter.

It began with an almost mandatory annual pilgrimage to Benton Lake NWR. We both tend to think of Benton as a place full of ducks, grebes, and other waterfowl—including a dependable pair of Black-crowned Night Herons—and we found these birds in abundance. Immediately upon entering the refuge, however, I hit the brakes for an unexpected surprise: a pocket of four Upland Sandpipers! While not rare, these ungainly-looking dinosaur holdovers always delight us, and to see four together constituted a birding bonanza. What’s more, we found three more UPSAs at Benton, along with the other great grasslands shorebirds Long-billed Curlews, Willets, and a lone Marbled Godwit.

Clockwise from above: Upland Sandpiper, Long-billed Curlew, & Willet

Our day had just begun, however, as we decided to try to find Stilt Sandpipers at a fairly isolated lake north of Grass Range. Again, we found the sandpipers, which were hanging out with at least nine Bald Eagles, but it was the grassland birds along the dirt roads that most impressed us. These included four more Upland Sandpipers, Western Meadowlarks, Eastern & Western Kingbirds, Lark Buntings, and at least four other kinds of sparrows. One of these was a drab bird Braden never expected to see on our trip—Brewer’s Sparrow. Though we were well within its range, we’d never found one in this area, which just shows how much you can discover if you get off the beaten birding path!

With their bold “pied” colors, Lark Buntings are one of our favorite grassland species—but spotty in many areas.

As we were approaching a left turn, I suddenly stopped and whispered “Look ahead.” About twenty yards in front of the car stood a Sharp-tailed Grouse—one of six we found on this particular route. Not only that, it posed beautifully giving us by far our best looks ever at this species. This species helped compensate for our miss on Mountain Plover, an unfortunately uncommon species extirpated from most grasslands by habitat loss or modification, especially the removal of bison and prairie dogs, and the conversion of short-grass prairie to many types of agriculture. Hopefully, we’ll find one next time!

Braden and I never turn down a grouse while birding, and this Sharp-tailed gave us one of our best looks ever.

My second favorite grassland bird experience of the trip happened two days later at Bowdoin NWR, when we had a wonderful experience watching a Grasshopper Sparrow singing on top of a stubby cactus. With my crappy ears, I can no longer hear this bird, but this one decided to give me a break by posing in full view where we could watch and photograph it. Which may leave you wondering what our BEST grassland bird experience of the trip might be? I’ll let Braden tell you about that next time!

Beginning birders often dismiss sparrows as LBBs—Little Brown Birds—but close inspection reveals a marvellous diversity of patterns and subtle coloration. Grasshopper Sparrows, for instance, are identified by their yellow faces and single thin brown line extending back from the eye.

Peregrine Possibilities: Birding Therapy Day Two

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Ever wanted to visit the Amazon—the rainforest, not the store? Check out Sneed’s new travel article at Perceptive Travel online magazine!

So after getting home from my Blue Mountain hike on Monday, I began planning Tuesday’s birding therapy outing to the Missoula Cemetery, a place I have monitored since the pandemic began last year. Almost immediately, however, I received a message from a friend of a friend (FOAF) about a putative Peregrine Falcon pair a few miles from our house. Peregrines are not uncommon in Montana with well over a hundred nesting pairs—a remarkable resurgence considering the DDT disaster that devastated dozens of bird species through the 1960s and 70s. However this possible nest site was one that neither Braden nor I had heard of, so instead of hitting the cemetery Tuesday morning, I convinced Braden to skip first period and go check it out by bike.

Braden and I never tire of seeing Red-naped Sapsuckers, especially in a new location!

It was a perfect morning for a bike ride and we spotted or heard Black-capped and Mountain Chickadees, Red-breasted Nuthatches, and an assortment of other birds—Braden more than I thanks to his Bionic Ears of Youth! We were especially excited to find a nice boggy area with a couple of Red-naped Sapsuckers drumming on snags. Finally, we reached the area the FOAF had described and almost immediately thought that we heard the peregrines calling. We set up “camp” and watched, hoping to catch sight of them. No luck. Even worse, Braden had to leave to get back to school. “Well crap,” I thought. I didn’t want to see them without him, but also knew I might not head back to the spot anytime soon so decided to stay longer.

One of the benefits of hauling a camera with you is to “slow down” birds that are too fast and too far away to easily observe. Peregrine Falcons are a case in point!

I pulled out my phone to play a peregrine recording—not to attract them but to make sure what they sounded like. WHAM! Almost instantaneously a loud answering call hit me from above and I looked up to see the unmistakable shape of a falcon flying against the gray skies. That turned out to be just the opening salvo in an amazing twenty-minute aerial exhibition that the peregrine and his mate put on for me. I watched them chase off another raptor, skim forest treetops, and in a grand finale, copulate on the branch of a tree! Granted, the birds were far away, but I can’t recall a more exciting raptor experience—well, at least since seeing the Gyrfalcon with Braden earlier this year.

I got in touch with the Montana Peregrine Institute to see if they knew about this particular nest and it turns out that the pair was first discovered in 2020 and had apparently successfully fledged three young! My FOAF went even further and single-handedly convinced the Forest Service to delay a controlled burn that was supposed to happen this last week—right in the peregrines’ territory! Hopefully, the burn will go ahead in the fall—and give the birds a wonderful larder of new prey to raise their next batch of chicks.

Even though the birds were far away, it was thrilling to watch them mate—something that will hopefully ensure a new crop of peregrines this year!

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.