Category Archives: Habitat Restoration

Crossbill Sunday: the Final Day of Birding Therapy Week

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To wrap up Birding Therapy Week, I leaped onto my bike Sunday morning and pedaled to a spot I’d been sorely neglecting this year: the Missoula Cemetery. One thing that got me through the first year of the pandemic was cycling out there on a regular basis just to see what was flitting around. I’d ended 2020 with a total of 50 species, firmly cementing my position of Cemetery King, and seeing many surprising birds as a result. Braden and I had ventured out there once this winter and been rewarded with a flock of Common Redpolls, but I needed to get out there again before the trees fully leafed out, making it difficult to spot passerines.

As usual, I parked near the entrance to put in my hearing aids, grab a drink of water, and stretch out before beginning my tour. As I tried to loosen my hamstrings, however, I was already hearing some interesting sounds. “Hm . . . maybe Pine Siskins?” That’s when I looked up to see a flock of 20+ Red Crossbills! Not only was this a new sight for the cemetery, just that morning we’d seen our first ever crossbills at our backyard feeder. In fact, this was shaping up to be our best crossbill year yet, and I spent a solid 15 minutes enjoying the cemetery flock, which also contained liberal doses of Pine Siskins and a Yellow-rumped Warbler.

**The wonky bills of Red Crossbills have evolved to pry open cone scales, allowing the birds’ long tongues to extract the hidden seeds.**

Setting off through the tombstones on my bicycle, I wasn’t sure what else I’d find, but encountered other common cemetery birds such as robins, ravens, and flickers, but it was a weird morning, a bit cool and breezy and I began to lose hope that I’d see the unusual passerines I really craved. Turning on to the last access road, however, I stopped to investigate a couple of little birds that turned out to be House Finches. But among them, I spotted a flash of yellow—a Nashville Warbler!

Two (Yellow-rumped and Nashville) warblers were better than none, but I always can’t help feeling a large place like the Missoula Cemetery should attract many more of the “delicate” species than it does.

Alas, I failed to find any sparrows in the spot I’d seen both Song and White-throated Sparrows before, but I did get my Year Brewer’s Blackbird and a new “location bird”—Turkey Vulture—while racking up a total of 17 species. All of which left me satisfied—but not really.

One thing Braden and I have noticed during the past seven years of birding is how much better many of our public open spaces could be for birds, insects, and other wildlife. The Missoula Cemetery is a great example. I mean, it potentially has everything: lots of land, trees, even a fountain, and the dedicated staff obviously works hard to keep it looking nice. Unfortunately, the place is groomed to death—literally. Dead limbs and trees that could provide insect food for birds are meticulously removed. Messy brush—the stuff many songbirds love—is absolutely not tolerated. I could smell some kind of chemical—weed killer, I’m guessing—emanating from the lawns. Even the fountain where birds could drink is blue from some kind of bleach or detergent in it.

**American Robins seem to thrive in almost any urban environment, but many more sensitive species need more habitat—and fewer herbicides & pesticides—than many parks and other open spaces provide.**

Sadly, this is a situation that repeats itself over and over across America. Our vision of what is nice, neat, and orderly actually represents an extremely unhealthy environment, one that is undoubtedly harmful to wildlife and perhaps humans as well. No one really is to blame. It’s in our nature to want to make things neat and orderly. However as our knowledge has improved, this is something we as citizens can change. As I wrapped up Birding Therapy Week, I promised myself that I would redouble my efforts both to educate others and perhaps change some of our outdated thinking about both our personal and public open spaces.

Camas National Wildlife Refuge Update

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After last week’s post on our visit to Camas National Wildlife Refuge (see Pocatello or Bust), I received a welcome call from Refuge Manager Brian Wehausen. I had left a message with him, wanting to learn more about the seemingly bleak situation at the refuge, and he generously shared half an hour with me explaining the water shortage and prospects for the future.

When the refuge was purchased in 1937, Brian began, local farmers were taking water from the nearby Henry’s Fork stream and surface irrigating their crops in such a way that loads of excess water “skipped down” to the refuge, creating ample ponds for birds and other wildlife. When farmers switched to sprinkler irrigation in the 1980s, that load of water ceased and the refuge began drying up. “Before agriculture,” Brian shared, “the refuge probably had good and bad years, but we don’t really have any way of knowing what it was like.” Even so, the current situation has been impacted by the drop in the aquifer due to overpumping by agricultural and other interests so that in bad years such as this, migrating birds meet mud instead of water on their way north.

**While offering little for migrating birds now, infrastructure improvements at Camas NWR will soon allow the refuge to fill at least some of their ponds even in bad years.**

The good news is that the refuge recently received money from the Great American Outdoors Act to drill new wells that will put water into areas that they know retain it better. Brian doesn’t think they can return the refuge to what it was in its heyday in the 60s and 70s, but hopes to definitely improve the situation for waterfowl. “My whole goal,” he said, “is to be efficient with the surface water and also be efficient with the well water, and most of the water we pump will go right back into the aquifer.”

Unlike in some other places, the local community supports the refuge and agrees it’s worth keeping wet. “Generally, people love to see the birds,” Brian says. “We were a mecca for hunting in the 1970s, and that’s gone away, but people still come. Photography is our Number One use today.”

Before we hung up, I was curious what happens to the snow geese and other birds who arrive to find the refuge dry. Brian told me that when Camas is dry, Dillon (just over the border in southern Montana) also tends to be dry so most of the birds head straight up to Freezeout Lake (see our post A Real Wild Goose Chase)—which is where many birders are enjoying them as I write this. It sounds, though, that we’ll all be able to add Camas to our great birding hotspot lists in the very near future!

Birds and Books

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*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!

Banding, Bad Weather, and Old Friends

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The sun was still asleep as the Collard minivan circled the roundabout, turning off on the road leading to MPG Ranch. Thirteen months ago, we had had our first banding experience with the University of Montana Bird Ecology Lab on Upper Miller Creek road, and now we were back for more—Erick Greene, a UM professor working with my dad on an article, had invited us to join the Ranch team. We pulled up to the gate, and soon enough the banders arrived. We followed them through the gate and onto MPG Ranch, a place neither my dad nor I had been in at least two years. A brand new sign pointed directions to familiar places, and we followed the truck towards the Orchard House, where Nick Ramsey and I had spent many days watching the feeder birds. We passed the Duck Mahal, a seasonally-flooded building, located adjacent to a slough that provided habitat for the first Bullock’s Orioles, Gray Catbirds, Wood Ducks and Red-naped Sapsucker I had ever seen.

**While we hoped that the wind would die down, UMBEL’s Mike Krzywicki gave us a tour of their MPG banding site. Just the week before, they’d caught a rare Gray Flycatcher here.**

**The research carried out at MPG Ranch grows more and more important as climate change worsens and we grapple with how to protect and restore fragile Western ecosystems.**

The vehicles parked in a lot north of the Duck Mahal, and from there we followed Mike, the lead bander, down into a shrubby riparian area. The rising sun brought with it constant gusts of wind, and the gray sky threatened us with rain.

“Well,” said Mike, “It looks like we won’t be banding for a while, so why not go birding?”

As we walked around the floodplain, we learned about what projects UMBEL and each of the individual banders and students were working on. The birds, for the most part, were completely hunkered down, and most of the songbirds we recorded as flyovers. One group of birds was out in full force, however; it was peak raptor migration.

Pairs of Red-tailed Hawks performed acrobatics in the sky as the wind sprinkled rain around us. A golden-bellied female Northern Harrier passed right in front of us as we scanned the brush for warblers, and several accipiters made close passes (including one that sat on a bare log that we puzzled over for several minutes).

**It is definitely raptor migration season as we are seeing large numbers of birds riding mountain ridges and, when we’re lucky, coming close to the ground.** **(Red-tailed Hawk)**

The weather did not lighten, and so, for the safety of the birds, the banding session closed before it opened. My dad and I, still thirsty for species, said our thanks and drove back across MPG’s windswept plain towards another old friend: Lee Metcalf National Wildlife Refuge.

What we discovered upon arriving at the main ponds by the Refuge visitor center is that the season of brown, unidentifiable ducks was wrapping up, and the open water produced great looks at breeding-plumaged American Wigeon, Northern Pintail and Gadwall alongside prehistoric white pelicans. We hadn’t seen this much waterfowl in a long time, yet, again, our eyes turned to the sky. Raptors continued to stream over the Bitterroot Valley, and we studied each Red-tailed carefully, hoping to spot a Broad-winged Hawk, a rare but regular migrant this time of year. No Broad-wingeds appeared, but rafts of Turkey Vultures did. On our way out of the refuge, we spotted yet another raptor, one we had just begun to get familiar with: a crisply-patterned Peregrine devouring a blackbird on a fencepost.

Most people still think of the Bitterroot Valley as relatively untrammeled. As this photo shows, the valley is filling up fast, and we need careful planning to protect the wildlife that all Montanans cherish. (American White Pelicans at Lee Metcalf NWR)

Next, my dad and I headed to Kootenai Creek Road—not the road leading to the trailhead, but the one I’d accidentally driven earlier this summer. Why? California Quail, an introduced resident of the Bitterroot Valley, had been abundant the last time I’d been here, and this was the first time my dad had gotten his butt down here to add them to his year list. Nabbing quail was a necessity. Thankfully, we spied a lone male on our way back down the road, adding another year bird to at least one of our lists after a two-week drought.

**Okay, we admit it. A lone California Quail isn’t likely to make the cover of “Hollywood Birds Tonight”, but when it’s a Year Bird? Heck ya, we’ll take it!**

Finally, we hit the Fort Missoula Gravel Quarry, a birding classic, before heading home. Upon entry, we were hit with a large flock of robins feeding on berries, and soon began pulling other species from the flock. Butterbutts (Yellow-rumped Warblers) flycaught above leaf-gleaning Orange-crowned Warblers, and we spotted a pair of Cassin’s Vireos, adorned in yellow vests and white eyeglasses. As we made our way towards the water, I heard a high, metallic “chip” coming from a bush behind us. After about a half hour of pishing, using playback and circling the bush multiple times, an adult “tan-striped” White-throated Sparrow popped into view for a second, adding another species to my dad’s year list (I’d found one at the Rocky Mountain Elk Foundation a few weeks prior). Like at MPG and Lee Metcalf, raptor silhouettes lined the horizon, and we continued scouring the sky for Broad-wingeds. Unfortunately, we didn’t find any, but there would be other days.

On the way home we hit another old favorite: Taco Bell. It had been a day of new experiences and old memories. We had no choice but to feel fulfilled.

Five Valleys, Many Birds

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On Saturday, April 20^th, my dad and I headed out to Five Valleys Land Trust’s Rock Creek Property, our truck full of plants and shovels. I had completed my Eagle Scout Project on this property last year. For my project I had planted about 30 native plants in an enclosure, on a part of the property dominated mainly by invasive grasses and the grasshoppers that fed on them.

We brought five cottonwoods to replace dead plants and to our surprise only used three of them—the majority of our plants were healthy! We planted the other two trees inside Five Valleys’ much larger enclosure, where about thirty volunteers had gathered to weed the area around the large pond.

Braden planting a new cottonwood to replace the few winter mortalities in his Eagle project. The project should create awesome habitat for birds in coming years.

As we finished putting our trees in, I heard an obnoxious call. I looked up to see an excited tuxedo-colored bird with bright pink legs—a Black-necked Stilt! We knew it was shorebird migration season, but we hadn’t expected to see anything, let alone a rare Western Montana migrant! On the pond we also tallied three Ruddy Ducks, another Year Bird.

We then put down our tools and picked up our binoculars to wander the edges of the property, where all the best habitat was. At the Clark Fork River, we found a large flock of migrating swallows zipping inches above the water. The main members of the flock were Tree and Violet-Green, but we also managed to spot some rarities: a few Northern Rough-winged Swallows, one Barn and one Cliff! The day was already shaping up to be a rare one.

Lincoln’s Sparrows are always a surprise in Montana, and we were lucky to see a migration pair out at Rock Creek.

Next we explored the flooded riparian area in the back of the property. We had seen a Pacific Wren and several Ruby-crowned Kinglets here in the fall, as well as our first Yellow-rumped Warbler of 2018, so we excitedly scanned the shrubs and trees. Sure enough, movement caught our eye. Two Lincoln’s Sparrows foraged in the brush, another great spring pick-up! As we reached the very edge of what Five Valleys owned, we flushed two Green-winged Teals that had been hiding along the shore.

As we made our way back to the car, I spotted movement in a patch of trees up ahead. Upon further investigation, we discovered a Ruby-crowned Kinglet and a brilliant male Yellow-rumped Warbler, both firsts for the year. They hung out in a large mixed flock that also included White- and Red-breasted Nuthatches and Black-capped and Mountain Chickadees. But the flock wasn’t done. Suddenly, a bright dandelion-yellow bird hopped into view. It danced through the branches in front of us, displaying its light gray head, white eye-ring, yellow throat and red cap. It was our best look ever at a Nashville Warbler!

Rain prevented us from getting any good bird photos, but the birds cooperated for some great viewing!

Back at the barn, we ate with the volunteers, led by Jenny Tollefson, who was also my Five Valleys Eagle project contact. We had put in good work and been rewarded with epic finds. I could only imagine what the property would become when the plants I and others had put in grew up to create even more habitat for the birds of the area.