Category Archives: Grosbeaks

An Owl a Day . . .

Our recent post on Montana’s famous Northern Hawk Owl generated an astonishing two million views . . . or was that, er, two hundred? Either way, that’s pretty good for us, but it did put us in a quandary over how to follow up. Our answer? Look for more owls!

But first, I promised you some other winter birds. As revealed in past posts, Braden and I have discovered that one of the best way to make sure we see certain winter birds is to go to Discovery—ski area, that is. This year, on the way back from seeing the Northern Hawk Owl, we detoured through Anaconda to see what we could find. Fate seemed to shine on us as we spotted a Golden Eagle just outside of Anaconda, but when we pulled into the crowded Discovery parking lot, we didn’t see a single bird. “Hm, that’s strange,” Braden murmured. “And we forgot to bring bird seed with us,” I added.

**Though more common than some other winter birds, getting to see Steller’s Jays up close made us realize anew how spectacular these birds are.**

Prepared for disappointment, we climbed out of the minivan, cameras and binoculars slung around our shoulders, and began trekking around the parking lot. After fifty yards, Braden stopped and said, “Hear that? Clark’s Nutcracker.” We followed the harsh calls toward the back of Discovery’s first aid hut, and saw a promising red flash of something flying. Drawing closer, we hit a veritable bonanza of winter birds cashing in on a generous scattering of bird seed behind the hut. Mountain Chickadees flew out to greet us first, but we soon encountered almost every other bird we could imagine: Steller’s Jays, Clark’s Nutcrackers, Evening Grosbeaks, and our favorites, Pine Grosbeaks. Each had a different strategy for attacking the food supply and we stood mesmerized for twenty minutes watching them.

**This male Pine Grosbeak may be one of my favorite bird photos I’ve ever taken. Gotta love the pose, which shows off the bird’s “Ooh” and “Ah” factors to the max.** **Good thing I got it, too, as the bird signed with a major talent agency minutes afterward.**

“The only thing we haven’t seen,” I said, “are Canada Jays.” As we began walking back toward the car, however, Braden spotted a silhouette on top of a distant tree. He raised his binoculars for a moment, then turned to me. “Guess what it is,” he said. “Canada Jay?” I hazarded. “Yeah.” We laughed and moments later had a great photo shoot with two CAJAs that ventured closer. Leaving Discovery, we drove some side roads looking for Great Gray Owls, and the bird Braden most wanted to see before he returned to Maine for spring semester: Northern Pygmy-owl. Unfortunately, this winter the Owl Gods have decreed a limit of one owl per day for us and we saw no other Strigiformes (the bird order of owls) for the day.

Though not exactly rare, sightings of Canada Jays in Montana are unpredictable, so getting good looks at these “ski area” birds is especially appreciated. These birds apparently survive by stashing perishable food under the loose bark of trees for later retrieval. **Climate change may be eroding the conditions the birds need to survive along the southern parts of their range.**

Still, we both really wanted to see a NPOW before Braden left, so a couple days later we headed out to Maclay Flat, where we’d seen our very first NPOW in 2016. They weren’t reported too frequently, but they were being seen, and as soon as we got out of the car, we heard the distinctive periodic advertising call of a Northern Pygmy-owl. We followed the sound toward the river, and then crunched through snow down a side trail—only to discover a photographer set up with a very long camera lens. He silently pointed up into a tree and we worked around until we could see it—a small, fuzzy blob about thirty feet above us.

While owls aren’t guaranteed, Maclay Flat is definitely one the best places in Montana to see owls. We were glad this Northern Pygmy-owl came through for us on Braden’s last birding expedition before returning to college.

Braden and I grinned and gave each other a quiet Hi-Five. After taking some photos, we settled in to watch it. The photographer said he’d heard at least three NPOWs calling back and forth—which seemed odd in broad daylight, and seemingly well before breeding season. Biologists I’ve talked to, though, emphasize how territorial these birds are, so perhaps the vocalizations help maintain their territories all year long. Whatever was going on, we—like most people—can’t get enough of owls and once again felt privileged to enjoy them as part of our world. It helped soften the blow of missing Braden when I took him to the airport a couple mornings later. Just not enough.

Billings’ Riverfront Park: Montana’s Premier Songbird Hotspot?

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Thanks to your enthusiasm FatherSonBirding has garnered more than 1,000 views for the month of June—our best viewership ever! In fact, it’s been very gratifying to watch more and more people get involved in birding, and Braden and I want to let you know how much we appreciate all of you, whether you are a beginning birder or advanced, whether you work to protect birds or simply cultivate an appreciation for them. Whatever you do, keep it up and we will keep sharing our own experiences. As always, feel free to share these posts and encourage others to subscribe. Sneed & Braden

I have to admit that without Braden, birding isn’t quite as much fun. I also don’t see as many birds without his better skills and ears. Still, sacrifices must be made and I continue to seek out birding opportunities wherever and whenever they present themselves. Just such an opportunity arose a couple of weeks ago when I traveled to Billings to be the closing speaker for their first annual Kid Lit Festival. “A-ha,” I thought. “This sounds like a birding opportunity!” So instead of one night, I scheduled the trip for three—with an ambitious birding schedule in the mix. Just for fun, I set a goal of seeing 100 species for the trip, a number I hoped to easily surpass. Friday morning, June 10^th, I set out toward Billings, making several stops along the way, and arrived at the trip’s first real birding destination, Shiloh Conservation Area, mid-afternoon. Though it has been engineered by humans, I’ve always loved Shiloh and have seen many interesting birds there from dowitchers to my Lifer Swamp Sparrow. Today, the surprises included a female Bullock’s Oriole, male Western Tanager, and a Wilson’ Phalarope that didn’t seem to know quite what she was doing there!

**This lone, befuddled Wilson’s Phalarope at Shiloh seemed to be wondering where all the other phalaropes had gone!**

I was even more excited to get up early the next morning and visit Billings’ Riverfront Park, a place Braden and I had birded only once before, but that had netted a rich harvest of songbirds including our first state Ovenbirds and Plumbeous Vireos. I wondered Could it possibly be as good this time? As soon as I climbed out of the car, I got my first indication when I saw my first of 26 Yellow Warblers and 6 American Redstarts, and heard multiple Common Yellowthroats and Yellow-breasted Chats.

**With their weird calls and stunning good looks, Yellow-breasted Chats are always a delight to observe—even if they are no longer warblers!**

That’s not to say that the birding was easy. With the thick riparian canopy, the situation mostly called for ear-birding and with my lousy ears, my skills were put to the test. Nonetheless, using Merlin’s Sound ID to help alert me to what to look for and to help confirm calls that I thought I recognized, I slowly assembled a picture of the birds around me. Thankfully, most of the birds also put in an appearance for visual confirmation, but I’m still sure that I grossly underreported the numbers around me and probably missed one or two species as well.

That didn’t keep me from fully appreciating the diversity and abundance of songbirds, however. I felt especially thrilled to see so many warblers, with large numbers of Yellow Warblers, American Redstarts, Ovenbirds, and Common Yellowthroats.

**On our previous visit to Riverfront Park, Braden and I had gotten only poor, brief glimpses of Ovenbirds, but today multiple Ovenbirds not only sang but popped out for an appearance.**

Merlin also picked up huge numbers of Warbling and Red-eyed Vireos—the latter a lot easier for me to recognize by ear than the former—and eventually I saw both species. I had hoped for Plumbeous Vireo as well, but struck out on that one. I also saw only one Black-headed Grosbeak, though I’m sure many more were around. All in all, I found 34 species and came away thinking that Riverfront just might be the best spring riparian birding hotspot in the state, and I vowed to return every year if possible. Even better, I still had two full days of birding ahead of me as the next day I planned to drive to Bowdoin NWR and then to Great Falls for a visit to Benton Lake.

My Riverfront Park List

**I was surprised to see only one Black-headed Grosbeak at Riverfront, but at least this one posed nicely—if from a great distance.**

Birding Central Park

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We continue our spring birding blog blitz by picking up on our New York City trip last week and the nail-biting account of our Central Park birding adventure. If you’re afraid you will get TOO excited while reading this, I suggest you ask someone to hold your hand. And don’t forget to tune in tomorrow for our next post “Birding Brooklyn”!

On Monday, Tessa and I left Amy to continue recovering and rode the Hudson Line up to see our good friends, fellow author Larry Pringle and his delightful wife Susan. After taking a great walk at Nyack Beach State Park and eating a nice lunch, we returned to Manhattan in time to meet Braden at Penn Station after his first year as a college student! Bright and early the next morning, though, he and I jumped on the C train to do something we’d dreamed about since we began birding eight years ago: bird Central Park during spring migration! (Well, after a stop at Liberty Bagels on 35^th St., that is.)

**People often ask us the key to successful birding. Our trip to New York provided the definitive answer: bagels.**

Just as Tessa and I had done two days earlier, we jumped off at 81^st St. and immediately crossed over into Central Park, entering a particularly birdy area known as The Ramble. As mentioned in our last post, I worried that the birds might have left NYC already. Most migrating passerines only appear in the park during brief windows ranging from a few days to 2-4 weeks. They also come in waves that one can easily miss. Within a few minutes, however, the birds put my fears to rest when Braden called out a Black-throated Blue Warbler, a Life Bird for me and one of the most stunning of all warblers. Over the next hour and a half, a veritable songbird hit parade followed with sightings of Worm-eating Warbler, Nashville Warblers, Northern Parulas, Northern Waterthrushes, American Redstarts, Swainson’s and Hermit Thrushes, Magnolia Warbler and much more, including a male Rose-breasted Grosbeak high in the trees.

**Black-throated Blue Warbler landed at Number 502 on my ABA (American Birding Association) Area Life List—and what an entry it was!**

**Not the best view, but this was our first male Rose-breasted Grosbeak since we’d hit High Island, Texas during our 2016 Big Year—so we took it!**

Among birders, it’s a well-known fact that seeing a lot of birds can generate an enormous appetite, so Braden and I were forced to sit down and attack our bagels. Mmmm . . . lox shmear . . . Partly satiated and with cream cheese smearing our faces, we again rose and made our way to our second birdy destination—an area of Central Park called North Woods. Along the way, we passed multiple landmarks familiar to anyone who has ever watched movies or Seinfeld including Belvedere Castle, the Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis Reservoir (where Dustin Hoffman jogged just before getting his teeth ripped out without anesthetic by a sadistic dentist), and the Central Park Tennis Center. We also made more bird discoveries such as a large group of White-crowned Sparrows.

**Surprisingly, large numbers of White-crowned Sparrows are rare in Central Park. We were lucky to run across a group of five on our walk up to the North Woods section of the park.**

To be honest, however, we didn’t think the North Woods could possibly match The Ramble for birds, but we soon learned that . . . it CAN! Two targets, a Yellow-breasted Chat and a Red-headed Woodpecker had created a buzz in that section of the park, and we (ahem) chatted with several birders about them, but it was the other birds that grabbed our attention. These included incredibly cooperative Black-and-White Warblers, glorious Chestnut-sided Warblers, a Veery and Blue-headed Vireo. We struck out on the chat, but making our way east, we followed the creek through an area called The Loch and continued to rack up amazing sightings. These included a quick glimpse at the now-famous Red-headed Woodpecker, several Red-bellied Woodpeckers, a Yellow-throated Vireo, a Great Egret flying overhead, and a bird I especially wanted to see, Swamp Sparrow.

**You wouldn’t think an animal that is just black and white could be so stunning, but Braden and I savor each encounter with Black-and-White Warblers.**

By now we had birded for five straight hours and our energy was starting to flag, so we reluctantly dragged ourselves to the 103^rd St. subway station and caught a ride back downtown. We learned later that we might have picked up Cape May and Blackburnian Warblers if we had hit a part of the Ramble called the Point, but did we mind? Only a little. In fact, our day had exceeded all of our expectations for birding Central Park. During our long morning, we had logged a remarkable 57 species including an amazing 13 kinds of warblers—as many as we could hope to find during a whole year in Montana!

Our Checklist.

**Though I’d seen Chestnut-sided Warblers when taking Braden back to college in Maine last fall, this was my first technicolor, breeding male!**

Even better, when we returned to our hotel, Amy was feeling much better and had spent the day with Tessa at Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty, so we all went out to a nice meal at Kung Fu Kitchen. Can you spell pork soup dumplings???? Then, while Braden and Tessa strolled Times Square, Amy and I set off to see The Book of Mormon, a musical we were supposed to see in Seattle when covid struck. But lest you think Braden’s and my Big Apple birding adventures had concluded, stay tuned for our next post . . .

Presume Not the Common Robin

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This time of year we observe a remarkable influx of American Robins in western Montana. True, the birds are year-round residents in small numbers through much of the state, but by April, instead of spotting the occasional bird, Braden and I begin counting them by the dozens. As much as I love this “thrush flush”, I have to admit it has led to some close calls in bird IDs this past week.

**This time of year, it’s easy to assume that every medium-sized bird is a robin—but BIRDERS BEWARE!**

Every morning I grab my binoculars when I head out to take our dog Lola for her morning tramp around our neighborhood. We follow a mile-long route around a school, down to a park, and then back up home, skirting the edges of houses, woods, and Rattlesnake Creek. Over the years, Braden and I have compiled a healthy bird list for the route, but I have to say that it rarely yields any real surprises. As a result, I become lulled into a sense of complacency about what I am looking at.

To wit, with all the robins around lately, I have naturally assumed I am looking at Turdus migratorius when I see medium-sized, nondescript birds perched in a distant tree. On my Wednesday dog walk, I again made those assumptions. I mean, there were a ton of robins about and I identified many by sight and sound. When I saw fifteen birds sitting in another tree, I thought, “More robins.” Fortunately, something made me pause—perhaps my inner birder conscience or a feather that didn’t look quite right. Ignoring Lola’s piercing eyes, which pleaded for me to throw the ball again, I raised my binoculars and found . . .

**This photo sheds light—or shadow—on how easy it is to mistake other groups of birds for American Robins.**

Cedar Waxwings! “Huh,” I thought. “That’s cool.” Waxwings weren’t earth-shattering, but I didn’t expect to see such a group this time of year. I threw the ball for Lola and continued walking, and a hundred yards later saw another group of birds in a tree. “More robins,” I thought, then remembered the waxwings and again raised my binoculars to find . . .

Evening Grosbeaks! Even better, it was my first good look at them for the year! Those two back-to-back sightings taught me a valuable birding lesson: never assume what you’re looking at just because certain birds are more common or you’ve seen them before. I hope it’s a lesson that will serve you well this spring—not that there’s anything wrong with robins.

**Up close, an Evening Grosbeak’s markings are distinctive, but even from medium range, light and shadow can obscure an accurate ID!**

Birds and Books

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As always, we’d be delighted if you share this post with anyone you think might be interested.

*Waiting for a Warbler* (Tilbury House, 2021) is my first illustrated picture book in more than a decade. It tells the charming stories of a migrating Cerulean Warbler, and a family that has been improving its backyard habitat for birds. You can order it now by clicking on the image or, better yet, placing a call to your local independent bookstore.

As a writer, birding gives me much more than inspiration. It has granted me a second lease on my career. When Braden and I dived into birding, it was the heart of the Great Recession and, like now, publishers were buying zilch. I was trying different things with mixed results, but felt more or less directionless. Birding changed all that. The more we saw and learned about birds, the more ideas I had to write—ideas that have resulted in adult books and magazine articles, and in my children’s books Fire Birds; Woodpeckers: Drilling Holes & Bagging Bugs; and Birds of Every Color. My newest title, Waiting for a Warbler, has a special history I’d like to share.

Woodpeckers: Drilling Holes and Bagging Bugs by Sneed B. Collard III (Bucking Horse Books, 2018)

The idea to write about warbler migration blossomed in my brain only days after Braden and I visited High Island, Texas during our 2016 Big Year of birding. High Island is what’s called a migrant trap. The shelter and food it provides lures thousands of exhausted, migrating songbirds as they complete their marathon eighteen-hour flights across the Gulf of Mexico. We spent only a day at High Island, but during that time observed more than a dozen kinds of warblers along with tanagers, thrushes, vireos, and many other songbirds, and I was so inspired I quickly wrote down a story and sent it to a publisher who had expressed interest. I heard . . . nothing. No call. No feedback. No offer.

I let the idea sit for a year or so—often a useful thing to do to get perspective on a manuscript—and took another look at it. I realized it read a little stiff and impersonal, and decided to recast it as the story of one individual warbler crossing the Gulf of Mexico. I sent it to a different publisher, who wrote back within a month or two and said that he liked it, but what about working in the idea of a family waiting for the warbler to arrive? It was a great suggestion and I quickly revised the story and sent it off. Two years later, the book has been published!

Just a few of the birds we saw during our eye-opening visit to High Island in 2016. From Left to Right, Little Blue Heron, Black-throated Green Warbler, and the most cooperative Rose-breasted Grosbeak in the history of birding!

The book recounts the epic, dangerous journey of a male Cerulean Warbler that runs headlong into a storm halfway across the Gulf of Mexico, but it also focuses on a family that has been working hard to improve its backyard habitat for birds and other wildlife. The two children had glimpsed a Cerulean Warbler the year before, but the bird had not stayed, and they hope to see the bird again this year. I will leave the rest to your imagination—or, better yet, until you read the story for yourselves—but I have to say that I am extremely proud of this book both because of the adventure it shares and the positive role models it offers. The delightful illustrations by Thomas Brooks help make Waiting for a Warbler both a perfect read-aloud and a useful resource for a family or class-room conservation project. Braden and I hope that you all enjoy it, and would be grateful if you share this post with friends, teachers, and others. Bird—and write—on!