Category Archives: Grassland Birds

Birding with the President

One of the fun parts of being a birder and a writer is being invited to speak to other groups of birders. This often entails travel to fun new locations and the opportunity to meet many wonderful people. Earlier this week, I had one such exceptional experience when I was invited to go birding with the President . . . of the Flathead Audubon Society.

Oh, did the title of this blog lead you to believe I got to bird with President Joe Biden? If so, I had no intention of misleading you. But no offense to Joe, I probably had much more fun birding with Flathead Audubon’s president, Darcy Thomas, and her husband, Rob. Flathead Audubon is one of the most active Montana Audubon chapters, serving both as a focal point for birders and bird science and conservation in northwest Montana. It has been involved in a number of invaluable projects including the Jewel Basin Hawk Watch and vital conservation and education projects in and around Kalispell. As the chapter’s new president, Darcy is employing her great energy and enthusiasm to keeping the group flying forward. (Find out more by visiting https://flatheadaudubon.org/.)

La Presidente, herself: Darcy Thomas of the Flathead Audubon Society.

Darcy and I had planned for me to speak to her chapter members Monday night, so I rose early that day and headed toward Kalispell to sneak in a day of birding with Darcy before my talk. My expectations were rather low as many species had already migrated through Montana, and high water in lakes and ponds made shorebirds unlikely. Still, I welcomed the chance to bird with Darcy on her own turf, and maybe learn some great new places to visit in the Kalispell area.

Although I arrived at Duck Road with low expectations, the Savannah Sparrows put on a sparrow show like I had never experienced.

On my drive up, I decided to make a quick stop at Duck Road just above Ninepipe National Wildlife Refuge. Over the years, this rural gravel road has been one of Braden’s and my favorite places to bird. We’ve observed about 100 species there including Sandhill Cranes, the occasional shorebird, and tons of raptors including my personal favorite, Short-eared Owls (see our post “250 Montana Birds or Bust!”). Today, the first thing I noticed were sparrows flitting everywhere. We usually get a few here, but today I seemed to pass a mini-flock every couple hundred yards. I pulled over for a closer look and discovered that they were Savannah Sparrows, obviously in mega-migration numbers. Driving about five miles, I counted more than 200 of these delightful critters. I also was surprised to hear a pair of Sandhill Cranes in the distance along with a Western Meadowlark enjoying our late warm weather. Rounding out the list: a Lesser Yellowlegs, an American Pipit, and a pair of especially charismatic Northern Harriers.

Northern Harriers rarely perch for a snapshot, but this beauty gave me a few seconds to record just how gorgeous they are. Note the “dish” or “cup” around the eye. Like many owls, Northern Harriers often hunt by sound, and the dishes help focus the tiniest sounds to the birds’ ears as they patrol fields and marshes.

I rendezvoused with Darcy in Somers, famous for being where Braden and I saw both our Lifer Snowy Owl (see our post “A Quest for Snowy Owls”) and Lifer Gyrfalcon (see our post “Payin’ Raptor Dues, Reapin’ Raptor Rewards”). I had told Darcy I was especially keen on finding shorebirds, and we hit one spot only to find it completely dry. Next, however, Darcy took me to Split Pond, where I picked up my first Horned Grebe of the Year. After that, we took scenic backroads over to Creston Wetlands, where birders had recently seen an extremely rare Montana visitor, a Hudsonian Godwit. Alas, the godwit had moved on, but the best part of our day was yet to come . . .

Once again, if only eBird had a place to record mammals, this rare pygmy hippo sighting would have helped make Darcy and me famous!

After collecting my trusty minivan, I followed Darcy back to her house, where her husband Rob had made us the perfect snack—tuna sliders! That fortified the three of us as Rob drove us to a Kalispell hotspot I’d always wanted to visit, the West Valley Ponds. About half a dozen ponds actually fill the area, but the road passes three major ones, and the first thing I learned is that in fall, the place becomes Sandhill Crane Central! Darcy told me that up to 500 or more cranes gather here to feed up on grain dropped in the surrounding farmers’ fields before they migrate south. At first, we saw only a handful, but the more we focused, the more cranes we saw! It was a real treat, and by far the most Sandhill Cranes I’d ever seen in one place in Montana.

As we kept sharpening our focus, Sandhill Cranes seemed to appear everywhere in and around West Valley Ponds.

Ducks are tough these days as they are in their generic “intermolt plumage”, but we managed to ID all three teals and American Wigeons, along with a quartet of Trumpeter Swans. As we were rounding a curve, though, I said, “Stop. Stop. Stop”, and as Rob pulled up, Darcy and I got our binoculars on a small bird wagging its tail and playing in a nearby puddle. “American Pipit!” I exclaimed. Though I’d seen one earlier in the day at Ninepipe, that had been at a distance, and I never get enough of these birds. They breed up in high alpine meadows and, in fact, Braden and I had seen my first high-altitude pipit at Logan Pass only a month ago. It was nice to see one down in the valley before it begins its fall migration to Arizona, Mexico, or even farther south.

I wondered if I would see an American Pipit today—and was not disappointed. The birds are gracing our lowlands as they migrate from their high-altitude breeding sites to their overwintering grounds farther south. This was my first of two for the day, on Duck Road.

Darcy and Rob saved the best for last. As we pulled up to the final pond, we climbed out to admire a mix of waterfowl and a flock of about 300 Red-winged and (at least) 4 Yellow-headed Blackbirds in a large bunch of cattails. Suddenly, a dark streak caught the corner of my eye. “Falcon!” I yelled and the three of us watched enthralled as the bird shot straight toward the cattails. All 300 of the blackbirds frantically took flight, some in the same direction the falcon was flying. We saw the falcon twist and turn trying to nab one, but at least this time, the blackbirds got the better of it.

West Valley Ponds are one of the Kalispell area’s most productive and scenic places to bird—but today, they were also the site of a daring Peregrine Falcon attack!

By this time you’re probably asking, But what kind of falcon was it? Often, I am unsure in these situations. Falcons appear and fly off so quickly that it’s sometimes difficult to get any kind of look. Darcy and I agreed, however, that this bird’s dark slate wings, large size, and powerful flight left no doubt that it was a Peregrine—my 237th Montana bird for 2023. It was a great way to wrap my birding afternoon with the President, and provided a perfect prelude to my evening visit with the fun folks at Flathead Audubon.

Crane 1: “Hey, what’s Bernie doing over there in front of that hay bale?”
Crane 2: “Think we ought to go check it out?”

Crane 3: “Heck yeah!”

July Shorbs & Other Surprises

Here, as we’re about to roll into September, I finally have time to fill in a bit of the rest of our summer birding shenanigans. Those of you who have followed our blog may have gleaned that we don’t generally put much effort into our late July birding. The reasons aren’t too hard to uncover. By late July, most birds have stopped singing, rendering them much more difficult to find and identify. Meanwhile, shorebird migration season hasn’t really hit full stride. In short, there’s very little low-hanging birding fruit to draw us into the field.

A cooperative Alder Flycatcher on Bellview Road near Choteau.

What did draw us out in late July, however, was the presence of our friend Nick Ramsey passing through Missoula for a few days. With Braden home, and Nick also in Missoula, we really had no choice but to embark on a birding adventure. We decided on a two-night/three-day trip, and headed out on Friday, July 28 curious about what we would find. Having already birded a lot this summer, I let “the boys” decide what they’d like to see, and both had been sorely missing prairie birds, so we pointed the trusty minivan toward Great Falls.

Our adventure started out promisingly when we saw Black Terns near Brown’s Lake and heard a Northern Waterthrush—along with a host of other species—next to the road past Lincoln. After hitting Benton Lake NWR at the height of breeding season in June (see post “Festival Report: Wings Across the Big Sky 2023”), I wondered what might await us there, and to my delight, almost everything I’d seen in June now presented itself almost two months later. These included Long-billed Curlews, Upland Sandpipers, Sharp-tailed Grouse, and gobs and gobs of adorable baby Eared Grebes.

https://ebird.org/checklist/S145834937

Time was a-wastin’, so after a couple of wonderful hours, we sped to our next destination, Freezeout Lake. You may recall that I saw my first Montana American Bittern there only two months ago, but today started out a little slow. As we continued driving, though, the species kept piling up. It hit its climax when we stopped at “Pond 4”, on the opposite side of the highway from the main, large ponds. Here, we stumbled into a wonderful assortment of shorebirds. “But you said shorbs hadn’t started migration yet,” I can hear you all saying. Well, guess what? I was wrong. Deal with that!

The shorbs in front of us included Baird’s and Least Sandpipers, Wilson’s and Red-necked Phalaropes, Spotted and Solitary Sandpipers, yellowlegs, and a nice bunch of dowitchers. Speaking of, Braden and Nick “liked” one or two of these for Short-billed Dowitchers, an elusive species in Montana, but notoriously hard to identify. It wasn’t until another bird flew in, scaring the flock away that the boys confirmed a “shorty” by call in the flock!

I know, lousy photo, but this Sandhill Crane family at Freezeout reminded me of camels crossing the Sahara! Franklin’s Gulls, not vultures, lurk in the background.

But wait, that’s not all. As we were admiring all of the other birds, an American Bittern flew in and settled next to the cattails only fifty yards from us! Here, Braden and I had gone almost a decade without seeing one, and this marked my second visual sighting in one summer!

But wait, that’s not all. After the AMBI flew away again, a Prairie Falcon screamed over the pond, flushing every bird out there. We got amazing looks, and with his new camera, Nick captured incredible photos! To see some of them, look at our checklist:

https://ebird.org/checklist/S145853272

Our day hadn’t finished, either. After leaving Freezeout, we trundled up Bellview Road to find Thick-billed Longspurs, Alder Flycatchers, Veerys, and more. Finally, exhausted, we made our way to East Glacier, where I’d booked a hotel for two nights. Since leaving Missoula, we’d recorded more than 110 species—and our trip was only a third over! Alas, fall is settling in as I write this so I probably won’t get around to blogging about the rest of our adventure, but if you want an idea what we did the next two days, please revisit my post “In Search of the Wily White-tailed Ptarmigan, 2022!”

On our drive home, this fire near Arlee reminded us that it was definitely fire season. This was one of three fresh blazes we saw as we headed back to Missoula from Glacier.

Festival Report: Wings Across the Big Sky 2023

In my last post, I mentioned being on my way to Montana Audubon’s 2023 Wings Across the Big Sky festival in Great Falls. After birding Freezeout Lake and Choteau, I could feel my excitement grow. Not only would I get to meet a lot of other birders at the festival, I had been invited to lead two field trips to one of my favorite Montana places to bird: Benton Lake National Wildlife Refuge. Last year, I’d had one of my best birding days ever at Benton Lake, and a couple months later, Braden and I had followed that up with perhaps our best Montana shorebird day ever. What would this wonderful spot hold for us this time?

The sharp eyes of our intrepid Saturday Benton Lake field crew let no bird escape our detection!

Saturday, our trip got off to a good start when one of the participants told me about a Burrowing Owl right off the road leading up to the refuge. Driving my intrepid minivan, we turned right onto a muddy track—only to drive right under the owl without seeing it! Fortunately, the two cars behind us were more observant, and we all got great looks at this rarely seen animal before heading to the refuge. Turns out, we would glimpse another BUOW at the refuge itself—but it would be only one of many stars for the day.

Birding Benton Lake NWR entails two distinct phases: a grasslands phase and a wetlands phase, and today, neither one disappointed. Driving through grasslands on our way to the start of the main loop, we were rewarded with multiple looks at Willets, Marbled Godwits, Long-billed Curlews, and Upland Sandpipers. The Willets and curlews especially put on a show for us, circling around the visitor’s center parking lot, uttering their looping, haunting calls. Thanks to recent rains, the vegetation in the prairie sections seemed especially tall and that probably suppressed one of our main targets, the Chestnut-collared Longspurs, but other birds turned out in force, especially Horned Larks and Savannah Sparrows. When we’d almost reached the turn for the wetlands section, I spotted several large-bodied birds flying low across the horizon—Sharp-tailed Grouse!

With more water in them, the wetlands ponds sported a different mix of birds than last year. We counted 13 species of ducks, more than twice what I saw last year, but none in huge numbers. Wilson’s Phalaropes were present, but in smaller numbers than last year. While I’d counted 220 American Avocets and 20 Black-necked Stilts last year, today we saw neither species. Fortunately, the Franklin’s Gull colony appeared healthy and intact with at least 1,000 birds, as did the smaller number of White-faced Ibises. I worried when we didn’t see our dependable Black-crowned Night Heron colony—until one of our intrepid crew spotted one when we walked out to the end of the boardwalk during our early lunch break.

Franklin’s Gulls dominate a whole section of Benton Lake—including, at times, laying claim to the roadway.

Undoubtedly, one of the stars of the day were the Eared Grebes, who had constructed hundreds of raised nests in the “upper” pond. In fact, our little caravan stopped to break out our spotting scopes and admire this incredible sight for at least ten or fifteen minutes. On our way out, we passed the tree where Braden and I had enjoyed nesting Swainson’s Hawks multiple times over the years. Sure enough, a SWHA parent sat dutifully on a branch watching us as we slowly lumbered by.

It was a great treat to again visit the refuge the following day and I wondered how these two visits would compare. The verdict? Pretty similar. On Sunday we missed the Sharp-tailed Grouse—but again saw the Burrowing Owl, placidly sitting in the middle of the road. We missed the pair of Black Terns we’d seen the day before—but saw far more Forster’s Terns, and finally spotted a lone Black-necked Stilt along with a single Sandhill Crane.

From a distance, I assumed all of these dark spots out on the water were ducks. Our crew was delighted to discover that most of them were Eared Grebes sitting on nests!

We wrapped up Sunday’s visit by pulling over at a section of the road with shorter grass, and sure enough, soon spotted a couple of Chestnut-collared Longspurs, doing flight displays above their territories. But my favorite sighting came a few moments later, when we all turned our binoculars on a buteo hawk circling high overhead. The bird had unusual coloring, and we debated what it could be. Swainson’s? Red-tailed? An uncommon Broad-winged Hawk? Finally, my co-pilot for the day, Kevin Cox, called the correct ID: Ferruginous Hawk! I was thrilled. I usually see a FEHA in Montana every year, but it’s not a guarantee—and to see it out in such a glorious spot, and on such a glorious day, and in the company of so many people who appreciated it, well, that perfectly crowned a very memorable festival.

Click here for Saturday’s eBird checklist.

This Ferruginous Hawk was the perfect bird to cap off a wonderful festival weekend!

Note: The 2024 Wings Across the Big Sky festival will be held in Helena, Montana, which I’ve always considered to be the best home base for birding in Montana. No matter where you live, I hope you’ll plan on attending, either the first or second weekend in June. You won’t regret it!

Bitterns Under the Big Sky

You may have noticed a paucity of posts since my daughter and I returned from Japan. It’s not for a lack of birding action. In fact, the past couple of months have seen our busiest birding in a couple of years. Braden has been strenuously counting eastern songbirds while I have been crisscrossing the state on various writing and speaking assignments, some of which I hope to share with you when I get several deadlines out of the way. Meanwhile, big thanks to our recent guest poster Roger Kohn for stepping in during our delinquence! And now, for today’s story . . .

The second weekend in June, my work took me to Montana Audubon’s Wings Across the Big Sky Festival, to be held in Great Falls. I had received a surprise invitation to speak at the event as well as lead two birding outings to one of Braden’s and my favorite Montana hotspots, Benton Lake National Wildlife Refuge. The festival kicked off on a Friday afternoon, but I cunningly calculated that if I got up early, I could get in a couple of solid birding sessions beforehand on the east side of the divide. I was on the road by 5 a.m. and cautiously drove into the dawn on Hwy 200, headed toward Great Falls. Why cautiously? Because this was the time of greatest risk of striking deer and other animals on the highway. Near Lincoln, in fact, I passed a dead elk and a smashed up car flashing its hazards off to the side of the road. I drove by, but then thought, “Wait. What if someone is still inside of that car?” and quickly turned around. Fortunately, I discovered no bleeding bodies, but it reinforced my caution as I continued my journey.

On my approach to Freezeout, I espied a Wilson’s Snipe and couldn’t resist pulling over for a photo. Can you see the raindrops?

The first stop on my birding agenda was Freezeout Lake, a place readers will be familiar with from past posts. Since we began birding, Braden and I have visited Freezeout more than a dozen times—and not just when the lake receives its famous influx of tens of thousands of Snow Geese migrating north in March. Over the years, we had made great discoveries at all times of year, including Clark’s Grebes, Tundra Swans, awesome shorebirds, and our Lifer Short-eared Owl. One bird that had always eluded us? American Bittern.

At first it’s not much to look at, but Freezeout Lake is a vital resting and breeding location for tens of thousands of Montana birds.

“I don’t understand it,” Braden told me via telephone the night before I left. “Other people go to Freezeout and see bitterns right in front of them, but we’ve never seen one there.”

“I guess we just haven’t paid our dues,” I said. “But I’ll keep a close eye out for them.”

Despite this promise, I held little hope of seeing one of these secretive birds. For one, they were thinly scattered across the state. Braden and I had heard one in the Swan Valley two years ago, and I had heard another at Bowdoin in 2022, but we had never seen a bittern in Montana, and I didn’t expect to this morning. Nonetheless, I arrived at Freezeout before 8:00 a.m. and eagerly set out along the management area’s dirt roads. Northern Shovelers and Gadwalls sat in the middle of the road, only reluctantly moving out of my way as I approached. Savannah Sparrows and Killdeer called through my open windows. I spotted several Wilson’s Phalaropes and, out on the water, a complement of American White Pelicans and Western Grebes. I especially searched for Short-eared Owls, but not a one was to be seen. After spending half an hour tolerating the mosquitoes, I turned around and made my way back to the beginning of the main driving loop.

I’d never seen so many Western Grebes at Freezeout as I saw last weekend. Surprisingly, I found not a single Clark’s Grebe despite studying more than a dozen possibilities through the scope. Up close, Clark’s are easily distinguished by a more orange-colored bill and the black facial line that rises above the eye, not below it as in this fellow.

Turning left onto the loop, I sharpened my senses as I guided my minivan into an area of thick cattails and brimming canals. Yellow-headed Blackbirds emitted their harsh cacophony and I heard a Sora in the distance. Glancing out my right window, I hit the brakes.

“No way,” I said.

Like most birders, I had been victim to wishful thinking countless times while birding, but as soon as I saw the thing standing out among the cattails a hundred yards away, I knew what it was. American Bittern!

With the bird’s amazing camouflage, I may not have seen this American Bittern if that Red-winged Blackbird hadn’t shouted, “Hey, Dude in the minivan, check this guy out!”

I turned off the engine, picked up my camera, and quietly climbed out of my minivan. I took several documentation photos and then silently studied this remarkable apparition through my binoculars. American Bitterns truly are bizarre-looking creatures. Grouped with shorebirds, bitterns display some of the most superior camouflage in the bird world. Brown overall, with brown and white stripes running down their long necks, they are famous for their “freeze pose” in which they extend their necks vertically, making them blend in almost perfectly with the cattails or rushes around them. In fact, as I watched, the bittern held this pose for several minutes before lowering its head and looking for food.

As famous as their freeze pose is, their call matches it for bizarreness. A deep guttural sound that some describe as pump-er-lunk, the bird sounds like nothing else in the natural world. The first time Braden and I heard it in the wild, I hardly believed it was real and accused Braden of playing it on his phone. It was real alright, and this morning, to my amazement, the bittern in front of me emitted this sub-woofer sound across the marsh.

When I first saw this guy, I was hopeful I’d found a Red Knot, which Nick Ramsey had told me were passing through the state. Still, I was not unhappy when my knot untied itself into a Willet!

After a few minutes, the bird flew away, and I watched it go, still in shock that this bird had decided to grace me with an actual sighting. I knew it could be a long time before I saw another one. Once hunted widely, bitterns continued to decline through the twentieth century due to wetlands loss and degradation, and perhaps pesticides. According to Cornell Labs’ Birds of the World, “Remarkably little is known about the biology of this species.” As I continued driving, though, I hoped that this one-of-a-kind bird would continue to find safety and nesting areas in Montana—even if I never personally got to see one again.

Love Wilson’s Phalaropes!

The Best Prairie Day Ever: Benton Lake NWR

After speaking at the inaugural Billings Kid Lit Festival (see Billing’s Riverfront Park: Montana’s Premier Songbird Hotspot?), I awoke at 4:30 the next morning and hit the road by 5:15. My plan was to book it to Bowdoin National Wildlife Refuge and start driving around the lake by 8:30. The problem? I kept passing ponds with birds in them—and I, of course, had to stop to find out what they were! My efforts were rewarded with a variety of ducks, Wilson’s Phalaropes, American White Pelicans, Sandhill Cranes and more, but delayed my arrival at Bowdoin until 9:30. Then, even greater disaster struck: I ran into way more birds than I expected at the Bowdoin visitor’s center—including both male and female Baltimore Orioles!

Bowdoin NWR lies at the eastern edge of the Baltimore Oriole’s range, but Braden and I have seen them often enough that it seems certain they breed there. Oh, and seeing both the male and this female offers an added clue!

Finally entering the first five-mile stretch of the loop, I was shocked by how much of the lake had been sucked dry by eastern Montana’s multi-year drought. This really was a disaster and I wondered if I would even find any place conducive to water birds. Meanwhile, I encountered great grassland birds including Long-billed Curlews, Loggerhead Shrike, Chestnut-collared Longspurs, Lark Buntings, and Grasshopper, Vesper, Clay-colored, and Savannah Sparrows. Finally, near the end of the lake, I found water but at pathetically low levels. A much-vaunted Cassin’s Sparrow (discovered by Joshua Covill, I believe) had been observed repeatedly at about Mile 7 of the loop and I ran into Robin Wolcott and her husband who had driven over from Big Fork to see it. While we stood there, Robin did hear the sparrow, but with my crummy ears I couldn’t be sure so didn’t count it. I also had many miles to drive so I kept on truckin’, driving the three hours to Great Falls.

The next morning I again woke early, loaded up the car and arrived at Benton Lake NWR as dawn filtered over the prairie. After the dry conditions at Bowdoin, I fretted about Benton Lake—but my worries were hijacked by what may have been the most astonishing grassland birding experience I’ve ever had. It began with a sighting of a Long-billed Curlew in flight, always a welcome bird. Then, I saw other large shorebirds and stopped to behold the incredible courtship displays of Willets, flying madly around emitting their haunting, looping calls over the prairie. Other curlews joined in and a Marbled Godwit briefly gave chase to a Willet. Meanwhile, meadowlarks sang and a pack of coyotes unleashed their insane yelping cacophony across the landscape—all in the dawn light.

Most birders take Willets for granted, but watching and listening to them display over the prairie where they breed will forever make them a favorite bird ‘o mine.

Suddenly, I spotted a small bird rising high into the sky in an obviously courtship display. “No way,” I excitedly muttered, struggling to focus my camera on the small black dot. My thought? That it could be one of the prairie’s most magical creatures, a Sprague’s Pipit! Alas, Nick Ramsey studied my photos later and suggested it was actually a Horned Lark, and after further study, I agree. Still, it was no less incredible—especially because I didn’t even know that Horned Larks make such displays!

This “Sprague’s Pipit” got me uber-excited, but I learned later that it was almost surely a Horned Lark performing a similar high-altitude display. Thank you, Nick Ramsey, for setting me straight!

Passing the visitor center, I thought that I would finally make my way to the lake and start looking for water birds. Guess again. As soon as I turned right, down the dirt road, I stopped to look at juvenile Horned Larks and saw more Willets and curlews. Then, I spotted one of my top target birds: Upland Sandpipers! I had barely had a chance to look at them, when I saw another top target bird—a Short-eared Owl! As I was snapping some blurry photos of the owl, eight Sharp-tailed Grouse flew low across the road 100 meters in front of me and zoomed like cruise missiles across the prairie—something Braden and I had never seen at Benton Lake. But the best was yet to come . . .

Upland Sandpipers are one of our favorite grassland species—and they undertake one of Earth’s most incredible migrations, traveling from our prairies to southern South America in a matter of weeks each year!

As I was watching the Short-eared Owl, I noticed a white spot perhaps a quarter-mile away. At first I thought it was some man-made structure, but then it moved. I drove closer and raised my binoculars to see a sight I had never in my life observed—a male Sharp-tailed Grouse in full “impress mode” trying to woo a nearby female! Fumbling for my camera, I was so excited that my hands actually shook, and I watched this chase-and-pursue courtship for the next ten minutes. Like so many birds recently, a displaying male grouse was something I never thought I would see, and yet here it was when I was least expecting it!

My heart still racing, I finally moved on, and was relieved to see water filling the two main ponds—along with thousands of avocets, ducks, Eared Grebes, Yellow-headed Blackbirds, phalaropes, Forster’s Terns, Franklin’s Gulls, White-faced Ibises and just about everything else I had hoped to see. Water levels looked good to me, but refuge manager Bob Johnson later told me that they struggled to keep the ponds filled. They had the water rights, he said, but it cost so much—think hundreds of thousands of dollars—to pump the water up to the refuge that they had run out of money. That makes it more imperative than ever to support increased funding for our refuges and other wild lands by calling or emailing U.S. Senator Daines and our other representatives.

It’s hard not to love ibises, and I was delighted to see at least nine White-faced during my circumnavigation of Benton Lake.

I had planned to continue on to Freezeout Lake, but after four breathless hours at Benton, I wasn’t sure my sensory systems could handle it. As I said, it was my most incredible grassland birding day ever, and certainly my best at Benton Lake, not just for the species I saw, but for the intimate observations of their natural behaviors as they repeated their ancient life cycles. What’s more, I didn’t see a soul the entire time I was on the driving loop. It gave me a real, reverent feel for what the prairies must have been like before we plowed, grazed, and harnessed the vast majority of them. My wish is that we continue to protect Benton Lake and other vital refuges—and that all of you reading this get to visit there on a summer sunrise of your own.  

My Benton Lake eBird list Oh, and my species count for the trip totaled 110!

The only thing better than experiencing the beauty of the prairie is to do it in the company of an Upland Sandpiper and Long-billed Curlew. Can you find them?