Category Archives: Migration

Eastern Odyssey 2024: Return to Westby

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

We got an amazing number of great Bobolink photo opportunities on the trip, including this one south of Westby.
This Baird’s Sparrow popped up on the fence while we were scoping a brand new lake south of town.

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

It’s become a tradition to visit this old homestead every time we trek to Westby. Each visit, the old place loses a bit of ground. Soon it will be part of the prairie earth.

A Rare Warbler in Western Montana—and our Wings Across the Big Sky Festival Report 2024

In case you missed our last post, Sneed’s new book, Like No Other: Earth’s Coolest One-of-a-Kind Creatures, is now out just in time to enhance summer science education. To order, click on the book jacket in the right column!

Have you ever contemplated attending a birding festival? Braden and I have attended festivals in Monterey Bay, San Diego, and Rockport-Fulton near Corpus Cristi. All were terrific. I have to say, though, that our favorite is right here in Montana. After last year’s Wings Across the Big Sky birding festival in Great Falls, I was skeptical that this year’s fest in Helena could match it. How wrong I was! This year’s festival would not only prove wonderful in itself, but provide the perfect launch pad for Braden’s and my 13-day birding safari to eastern Montana. In fact, even before we reached Helena, Braden made what may be his greatest Montana bird discovery yet.

We left Missoula early on Friday, May 31st. Our first destination? Browns Lake, site of many past wonderful birding experiences—but nothing like we would have today. After the turnoff to Browns Lake, we always stop at a little riparian area and, as usual, got out to listen and look. Right away, we heard Dusky Flycatchers, Warbling Vireos, and Yellow and Yellow-rumped Warblers. Then, Braden heard an American Redstart and began “pishing” it in so that we could catch a look. I had my camera focused on a Yellow Warbler when Braden urgently hissed, “Daddy! Get over here now!” I rushed over to find him training his binoculars on a mind-blowing find: a Bay-breasted Warbler!

Perhaps Braden’s best Montana bird find ever, this glorious male Bay-breasted Warbler gave us great looks despite my horrible photos. This bird made the Montana Rare Bird Alert.

For those of you who don’t know it, Bay-breasted Warblers breed mainly in spruce forests of northern Canada across to the far northeast of the U.S. During migration, they almost never pass through eastern Montana, not to mention western Montana. True, I had seen a female in Missoula several years ago, but the gorgeous male in front of us shouldn’t have been anywhere within 500 miles of where we were standing—and, accordingly, made Montana’s Rare Bird Alert.

With that auspicious beginning, we happily proceeded to Carroll College in Helena for the Wings Across the Big Sky opening banquet. That featured an excellent talk by Tiffany Kersten, who set the Lower 48 Big Year record in 2021, and spoke eloquently about the challenges of birding as a solo female. Tiffany now is the proud owner of NatureNinja Birding Tours, and I can only guess that her guiding and tour experiences are not to be missed.

Usually uncooperative, Yellow Warblers gave us great looks at Vigilante Camprground near Helena.

Saturday morning, Braden and I convened at the festival breakfast for our first field trip, led by the highly-skilled veteran Montana birder, Sharon Dewart-Hansen. We were excited about the field trips we had signed up for because they would take us to places we had never before birded, and Sharon led us to Vigilante Campground northeast of Helena. After driving up a spectacular canyon, about 15 of us piled out to bird. Immediately, a Broad-tailed Hummingbird loudly buzzed us—a Montana Lifer for both Braden and me. Walking the campground, we were regaled with the songs of Ovenbirds, MacGillivray’s Warblers, Hammond’s Flycatchers, Veerys, and always my personal favorites, Lincoln’s Sparrows. A Ruffed Grouse drummed cooperatively several times.

Have I posted more Lincoln’s Sparrows than any other bird on FatherSonBirding? Perhaps, but who can blame me? I just love these guys!

After scouring the campground, we headed up canyon on foot and were treated to Violet-green Swallows and White-throated Swifts. On the way to the Vesta Cerra Ranch, whose owners generously allowed us to stop to eat lunch and admire their hummingbird feeders, we stopped for better looks at Broad-tailed Hummingbirds!

This Broad-tailed Hummingbird was a Montana Lifer for both Braden and me. These birds are quite rare and localized in the state, with the heart of their breeding range south of Montana.

Our Vigilante Campground List.

After some fascinating afternoon seminars, Saturday night’s dinner featured a wonderful report on Montana Audubon’s conservation activities by Executive Director Larry Berrin. These included a program I am particularly excited about, the Audubon Conservation Ranching program, which works with ranchers to maintain vital grassland bird habitat. Most touching was the presentation of Montana Audubon’s annual conservation award to the sixteen pioneering young people who successfully took the State of Montana to court for not taking sufficient actions to protect us all from climate change. Truly inspirational.

After packing up our car early Sunday morning, we headed out for our second field trip, guided by expert Montana birders Hilary Turner and Andrew Guttenberg. Once again, we were treated to fabulous birding through brand new territory that featured awesome grassland, riparian, and canyon birding. The highlight was a visit to the private Phantom Springs Ranch, where we recorded 45 species, including wonderful looks at displaying Bobolinks. Here, two Sandhill Cranes tried to join our group, but we had to politely inform them that our field trip was full.

These two Sandhill Cranes tried to join our group at Phantom Springs Ranch, but we had to politely turn them away.

After birding several other wonderful spots northwest of Helena, Braden and I sadly said goodbye to our intrepid birding companions. That sadness quickly turned to excitement, however, as we steered north on the next stage of what would become a 2,500-mile birding extravaganza . . .

Led by trip leaders, field biologist Hilary Turner (far left) and Andrew Guttenberg (third from left), our group enjoyed superlative birding in places Braden (second from left) and I had never before explored.

Our Phantom Springs Ranch List.

Note: Next year’s Wings Across the Big Sky festival will take place right in our hometown of Missoula. I hope we see you there!

Birding Ohau: A Hawai’i Report from Roger Kohn

Following Memorial Day, it is fitting that FSB presents a wonderful guest birding post about Hawai’i by Roger Kohn. For many Americans, World War II began in Hawai’i and left few families untouched by the experience. Roger’s dad served in the Navy during the war, and both of my grandfathers (Braden’s great-grandfathers) served in the Pacific. Meanwhile at home, my grandmother and great aunt worked in the huge Pratt & Whitney aircraft engine plant in Kansas City. As we honor all who served, I can’t help wonder how astonished our veterans would be to see peacetime Hawai’i today—a peace won by their commitment, intelligence, and sacrifice.

“I’m just going out there to hang out with my brothers, sip a few local beers, and eat good seafood”, I told Sneed in a February phone call. “Of course I’ll bird some, but it’s not really a birding trip.” I had made plans for what I called The Brother Summit. My California brother and I would go to Honolulu in April and visit our other brother, a Hawai’i resident. “Every trip is a birding trip,” Sneed quipped. I immediately knew he was right.

Our Special Hawai’i Correspondent, Roger Kohn, celebrates a big birding score at a viewpoint on the descent from the Koʻolau mountains.

Although I wanted to see as many birds as possible, I faced some built-in barriers. My brothers are not birders and I would not have a car, so I would have to find creative ways to get to some good birding hotspots. One way was to book a tour with a bird guide. I knew this was my only chance to see two Oahu endemic species (found nowhere else in the world, including other Hawaiian Islands): the Oahu Amakihi and the Oahu Elepaio.

On the first morning of the trip, my guide and I ascended the Koʻolau mountains that tower above Honolulu. Our first stop? A roadside spot for seeing the Oahu Amakihi, a bright yellow honeycreeper and our first Oahu endemic target. As we searched for the Amakihi, we picked up two dove species (Spotted and Zebra, both very common), Red-vented Bulbuls, the omnipresent Red-crested Cardinals and Rose-ringed Parakeets (an invasive species considered a pest in Hawaii due to its impacts on agriculture, but I must confess, fun to see). I also saw my first Warbling White-eye of the trip, a Lifer for me. (For some fun perspective on this and other widely-introduced species, also Sneed’s Japan posts such as “Birding Japan: Tokyo, Part I” and Braden’s and Sneed’s post, “Layover Birding in Amsterdam.”)

I saw this Warbling White-eye near the pool at my brother’s condo tower.

After a while, the guide spotted our target bird feeding in a ginger plant at the edge of the road, and we enjoyed good looks. The Oahu Amikihi is a beautiful bird, and the first honeycreeper species I’ve ever seen. The species is designated “near threatened” in eBird, so I felt very fortunate to see it. With this success under our belts, we headed down from the mountains, pausing at a viewpoint to take in epic views of Honolulu, with its skyscrapers and Diamond Head (the volcanic feature that looms over the city), backed by the deep blue waters of the Pacific.

I loved seeing an Oahu Amakihi, a honeycreeper found on Oahu and nowhere else.

Our second stop was a forest trail with the goal of locating the Oahu Elepaio. This proved difficult, and at one point we had been trying for at least an hour and half without success. Finally, as we made our way back to the trailhead, the guide spotted two or three individuals in bushes near the trail! We did not have good looks at the birds, which moved rapidly and offered us only brief, very filtered views as they flitted among the bushes. This flycatcher species is not much to look at, brown on top and white-ish underneath. But this Oahu endemic is listed as “vulnerable” in eBird, and once again I was grateful for the chance to see a rare Hawai’ian species.

A gorgeous Red-billed Leiothrix allowed me a few good looks in the Makiki Forest Recreation Area. Even though introduced species such as this have had direct and indirect impacts on native Hawai’ian animals and ecosystems, they do offer an unusual opportunity to observe and learn birds from other parts of the world.

The next day, I got my first good looks at a Pacific Golden Plover on somebody’s front lawn. In breeding plumage, this plover species is quite striking, with a black belly and face, a thick, clean white stripe down the side of the neck, and brown, white, and shiny gold patches on the back. I would subsequently see this species all over town in any available stretch of green space, from small lawns to big city parks. Their migration to Alaska loomed, so my April visit proved ideal.

Resplendent Pacific Golden Plovers were a common sight in any available green space in Honolulu as they prepared to migrate to Alaska.

Fast-forward a couple of days, and I was thrilled to get a chance to score some seabird Lifers. I had a big gap in my life list, with no shearwater, tropicbird, noddy, or booby species. However, during my pre-trip study, I came across a hotspot where many of these species could potentially be seen: the Japanese Fishing Shrine, on the southeastern coast of Oahu. This hotspot is literally just a shrine on a hunk of lava rock that juts out into the sea. There is nowhere to walk, so whatever birds I would see would have to come to me. One species that I particularly wanted to find was the Red-tailed Tropicbird, an elegant white seabird with a red bill and long red tail streamers. Not long after I arrived, I got my target, as four or five Red-tailed Tropicbirds traced large circles in the sky. At first, they were pretty far away, but as time went on their flight paths kept coming closer and closer to me and I was able to see them up close and capture great photos. A Lifer, and a spectacular one at that! In between tropicbird sightings, I scanned for other species and managed to pick up a pair of Sooty Terns, another Lifer, flying low over the ocean in the distance. Rendezvousing with my brothers, we headed to Kona Brewing, where they helped me celebrate my seabird treasure with a couple of rounds of delicious seasonal beers at the bar, with sea breezes whooshing around us in a pretty marina setting.

An elegant Red-tailed Tropicbird patrols the southeastern coast of Oahu.

One area that piqued my interest was the wetlands near Kailua, on the southeastern coast. After a pretty, 25-minute drive on the Pali highway and a superb lunch of a grilled mahi mahi sandwich and guilt-free fries (highly recommended!), my brothers dropped me off at Kaha Park. This is the starting point for exploring the Kawainui Marsh Wildlife Sanctuary, a delightful spot graced with abundant water and velvety green mountain views. Right away, I was rewarded with up-close views of Common Gallinules, including a super cute youngster that would melt the heart of even the most jaded observer.

A Common Gallinule chick at the Kawainui Marsh Wildlife Sanctuary. Whoose da cutest bird in the marsh?!

As I continued walking, I got good looks at both bulbul species (Red-whiskered and Red-vented), Common Waxbills, and Northern Cardinals. In the grasses, I saw another Lifer: a Scaly-breasted Munia, a songbird with rich chestnut hues above and an attractive and well-defined scaly pattern on the belly. Another introduced species (native to India and southeast Asia), this was another Lifer for me.

A handsome Scaly-breasted Munia in the grasses on my wetlands exploration.

As I returned to the trailhead, someone pointed out a Black-crowned Night Heron, which I had missed as it stood as still as a statue in the water a mere 50 feet away from me. While I waited to be picked up, I scored yet another Lifer, Java Sparrows (which are actually finches, so I wonder what genius named them Sparrows?), which were foraging in a grassy field nearby. In an hour and a half, I had picked up three Lifers, which I celebrated with my brothers at Lanikai Brewing. The parking lot for the brewery faces a pretty stretch of Hamakua Marsh, where I was delighted to pick up another Lifer, Hawaiian Coot, and see Black-necked Stilts for the only time on the trip. Bonus brewery birding, woohoo!

Finding Black-necked Stilts in Hamakua Marsh right behind Lanikai Brewing was a serendipitous event.

Another trip highlight was finding a small flock of Yellow-fronted Canaries, a boldly patterned bright yellow finch native to Africa, in a waterfront park. I had assumed I’d have to head up into the mountains or to some specific hotspot to find this species. Yet here they were, busily calling and feeding in a park amidst the hubbub of Waikiki. I also got brief but spectacular views of a Red-billed Leiothrix in all its multicolored glory, which I had barely seen on the guided tour, in the Makiki Forest Recreation Area. Bird of the Trip honors is a tough call, but I’d say it’s a toss-up between this species and the Red-tailed Tropicbird.

A Yellow-fronted Canary poses for me at Fort Derussy park in Waikiki.

As of mid-May, according to eBird, 108 species have been reported in Honolulu County (encompassing the entire island of Oahu) so far this year. In a nine-day trip in which birding was only one of several priorities, I managed to see 31 species. Seventeen of those were Lifers, which far exceeded my expectations. With determination and a little help from my brothers, I had an excellent birding trip to Honolulu. Indeed, in the words of a wise blogger I know, every trip is a birding trip.

Our Bend, Oregon-based correspondent, Roger Kohn traces his birding obsession to a November 2016 Sneed visit to the Bay Area and considers Sneed his birding mentor. Though grateful for that, he sure wishes Sneed would increase his consumption and appreciation of craft beer. (Editor’s Note: I’m not sure what Roger is complaining about. I have been known to drink up to two beers a month!)

For more on birding Hawai’i, see Braden’s post “Hawai’i: The International Jungle.”

All photos copyright Roger Kohn.

Wedding Birding in Washington State, Part I

Braden and I write FatherSonBirding in the hopes of sharing the wonders of birds and birding, and the urgency to protect them. We do not accept advertising or donations, but if you’d like to support our work, please consider buying *NEW* copies of some of Sneed’s books—First-Time Japan, for instance, or my forthcoming picture book for younger readers, Like No Other: Earth’s Coolest One-of-a-Kind Creatures, available for pre-order now. We appreciate your interest and hope you will keep reading!

If you’ve followed our adventures for a while, you probably realize that Braden and I are opportunistic birders. Sure, we take occasional trips solely for the purpose of birding, but more often we exploit other travel opportunities in the pursuit of our birding passions. This piggy-backing not only reduces our carbon footprints relative to taking dedicated birding trips, it provides cheaper ways to bird places we never would have imagined. Last weekend, for instance, Braden was invited by the nonprofit group Defenders of Wildlife to Washington, D.C., to speak with Maine’s Congressional delegation about the importance of safeguarding and improving the Endangered Species Act—one of the most important pieces of conservation legislation ever enacted in this country. While there, he birded the National Mall, the botanical gardens, and several other places. As Braden winged his way back to Missoula, Amy and I headed to the “other Washington,” Washington State.

Amy and I enjoying the Edmonds waterfront before the big wedding event. You may see some clues that I was also looking hard for seabirds!

We flew to Washington to attend the wedding of the youngest daughter of some of our dearest friends, the Isaacsons, and as we were planning the trip, I have to admit that birding didn’t enter my mind. Shocking, huh? As the date approached, however, I realized I might be able to sneak in a couple of birding outings. Then, as I remembered Amy’s penchant for sleeping in and realized how busy our friends would be preparing for the wedding, I recognized that I might be able to sneak in more than one or two birding sessions; I might be able to hit quite a few different places! I set several goals for myself:

* Bird new places I’d never birded before.

* Find as many seabirds and shorebirds as possible.

* Pick up some songbird targets I rarely got to see.

* Avoid getting killed in Seattle’s traffic.

Although short of waterfowl and shorebirds, Washington Park Arboretum offered a nice urban birding location to see a variety of songbirds including this Spotted Towhee.

We spent our first night in Seattle, and the next morning I woke at 5:30 and made my way to the Washington Park Arboretum, which seemed to have habitat for both songbirds and waterfowl. Here, I made a disappointing discovery—waterfowl and shorebirds had pretty much fled coastal Washington for breeding areas farther north. Bummer, right? I mean, I kind of suspected as much since many of these birds had already passed through or arrived in Montana, but I guess I was hoping to run into a few. On the plus side, I found songbirds aplenty and enjoyed seeing my first Western Tanagers of the year and hearing my first Western Flycatcher—which led to the observation that migrating songbirds probably reach Washington a week or two ahead of Montana.

I’m a sucker for Wilson’s Warblers, which can be hard to find in Montana, and our wedding trip offered several good looks at them.

After collecting Amy and checking out of our hotel, we decided to explore Edmonds, twenty minutes away. Edmonds is a cute little town where the ferry to Kingston departs, but we mostly wanted to poke around looking for coffee shops, bookstores, and other items of interest—including birds. Alas, as we walked along the waterfront area, the waters of Puget Sound looked disappointingly empty. I spotted a few Pelagic Cormorants and hybrid Glaucous-winged X Western gulls, but none of the big rafts of scoters and pelagic species I had hoped for. Nonetheless, I stood on a little rocky viewpoint and carefully scoured the choppy seas with binoculars, wishing I had a proper spotting scope. Suddenly, I saw a black bird with a white head patch and orange-and-white bill about a quarter mile offshore. Surf Scoter! my brain shouted, but I immediately lost it in the chop. As I tried to “reacquire” my target, however, I saw a black bird that looked much different. This one had no colored bill that I could see, but did have a prominent white patch on its flanks. My heart soared as I recognized one of the birds I had most hoped to encounter on the trip: Pigeon Guillemot! Hooray! Ten minutes later, I got a bonus PIGU on the other side of the ferry dock—a perfect reward for my perseverance.

Without a spotting scope, I had to work hard to locate these two dark birds offshore. Can you identify them? The upper-right bird is a Surf Scoter (at the moment hiding its head), and the lower left bird is one of my favorite pelagic species, a Pigeon Guillemot.
Not the best photo, but it does show the Pigeon Guillemot’s distinctive white wing patch as this bird prepares to take off.

The wedding was to be held up near Burlington, Washington, and on the drive up I convinced Amy to stop at another place I had driven by many times but never visited. I wasn’t even sure what it was called, but at various times of year I had seen dozens of ducks spread out across big ponds there. A little research revealed that it was Spencer Island, site of both sewage treatment settling ponds and some restored natural wetland areas. Thank god for Google Maps, because it required quite a convoluted route to reach it off of the freeway.

Spencer Island was a challenge to get to, but undoubtedly offers some incredible “water birding” during winter and migration seasons. During our visit, it was the songbirds that put on a show.

Alas, here as elsewhere, most of the water birds had fled, but a short walk did net us my best look ever at Marsh Wrens, along with glimpses of Anna’s Hummingbirds, which are rare in Montana. However, I encountered my biggest score as we were driving out. I had the window rolled down, when I heard a distinctive “kiddick-kiddick!” from the marsh to our left. In previous years, I doubt I would have even noted it, but one of the great things about birding is that the longer you live, the more experience you acquire, and this time, I knew what it was: a Virginia Rail! My third one of the year already, which is quite astonishing given that Braden have spent entire years never seeing or hearing one at all.

Spencer Island offered only a few waterfowl, but did provide my best-ever Marsh Wren experience along with the year’s third Virginia Rail.

From Spencer Island, my early day was catching up with me, so Amy and I headed straight to our hotel in Burlington for a pleasant afternoon eating Mexican food, reading, and enjoying being on holiday. The wedding was the next day and we looked forward to that. Unbeknownst to moi, however, the trip’s best birding also lay ahead . . .

Stay tuned for Part II on Friday!

Untangling Birdsong with Merlin’s Sound ID

Braden and I write FatherSonBirding in the hopes of sharing the wonders of birds and birding, and the urgency to protect them. We do not accept advertising or donations, but if you’d like to support our work, please consider buying *NEW* copies of some of Sneed’s books—First-Time Japan, for instance, or my picture book for younger readers, Birds of Every Color. We appreciate your interest and hope you will keep reading!

The birds are back! Well, at least a lot of them. Last weekend, our dog Lola and I hiked our favorite four-mile loop from our house up to a ridge called the Mount Jumbo Saddle and then back down past what has become my favorite “bird thicket” in Missoula. We first began hiking this route when I was training to take Braden’s scouting troop to Philmont Scout Camp in 2019. Honestly, Lola isn’t crazy about the route since she hates loud noises and we often hear guns firing from a range a couple of miles away. I keep making her do it, though, because I’ve discovered that it’s a great way to keep up with the neighborhood bird community, especially in spring. The past couple of years, I’ve tried to do this route on a regular basis, carefully recording new arrivals and learning more about their migration patterns.

The past couple of years, Lola and I have regularly hiked up to Mount Jumbo Saddle and back to check in on which birds are currently in residence. Lola likes the route except for the gunshots she hears from east Missoula!

Songbird migration builds slowly here in Montana. This year in late March, I noted the first Western Meadowlarks, Western Bluebirds, and Spotted Towhees on the route—but four weeks later, April 21, not much had changed. Two weeks after that—yesterday—the dam broke. I set off up the hill hoping to see perhaps the year’s first Vesper Sparrows, but quickly discovered that new arrivals were spouting off everywhere I turned. It began halfway up Jumbo Saddle when I heard a song that reminded me of a Western Meadowlark and I guessed that it was my season’s first Vesper Sparrow. The problem? I didn’t know for sure—a situation faced by millions of birders who have not, or cannot, learn more than a few bird vocalizations.

In our neck of the woods, Spotted Towhees are among the earliest spring songbird migrants. Fortunately, their weird “bouncing ball” rattle is easy to pick out.

What to do?

In the past couple of years, I have developed a strategy for dealing with these situations—one that might help you, too. It used to be that when you heard a song or call that you couldn’t identify, one’s options were limited. You could just guess, and play various bird calls on your app, hoping to land on the right one. You could record the call and play it back to an expert. More often, you’d try to follow the song and get a visual on the bird to see what it was. Unfortunately, all of these methods are slow and cumbersome, and in spring, well, there are just too many vocalizations to keep up with.

And then along came Merlin’s Sound ID feature.

Sound ID is (almost) every birder’s dream. You simply tap a button on the Merlin phone app and it begins recording and identifying the songs and calls around you in real time. The app is not infallible. You have to be fairly close to birds for it to pick up and identify them, and the app has difficulty handling background noises such as wind, rushing streams, and cars roaring by on a freeway. The app also makes mistakes. Starlings, mockingbirds, and Steller’s Jays can fool it with their imitations of other birds. If the app only picks up part of a call, it sometimes can mistake one bird for another. The bottom line: you should never use the app alone to identify a bird.

So how do you make proper use of it? I employ it in two ways.

Strategy One: Confirmation

The first is to confirm a song or call that I may be somewhat familiar with—but am not 100% sure about. The putative Vesper Sparrow in the second paragraph is a perfect example. In past years, I had learned that a Vesper Sparrow kind of sounds like the call of a Western Meadowlark—but a bit simpler and cruder. When I heard a “somewhat meadowlark” call near Mount Jumbo Saddle, I immediately thought “Vesper Sparrow” but couldn’t be sure, so I started Sound ID. Sure enough, the song lit up as Vesper Sparrow. Other things made me confident about this ID, too. The timing was right from previous years. Most important, I was standing in perfect Vesper Sparrow habitat—open meadows with tall grass and scattered perching shrubs.

The arrival of Vesper Sparrows is a cause célèbre for Braden and me. I always need to confirm its meadowlark-like song, however.

As my hike continued, in fact, I used Sound ID to confirm several other birds in this way, including Steller’s Jay and the year’s first Chipping Sparrows and Yellow-rumped Warblers. Things were about to get more challenging, however.

Strategy Two: Possible Presence

Not long after hearing my first (and second, third, and fourth) Vesper Sparrow, I reached a nice brushy area where Braden and I have heard Orange-crowned Warblers in previous years. Unfortunately for me, I have a very difficult time distinguishing one warbler song from another. I usually recognize Yellow-rumped Warblers when they first show up, but as other species arrive they plunge me into, in the words of Sir Topham Hatt, “confusion and delay.” This morning, I could hear what sounded like warblers—but I didn’t know which ones.

Again, Sound ID comes in very useful in these situations because it can give you an idea of what to look for. I started a new recording and the app failed to come up with any Orange-crowned Warblers. It did, however, identify Yellow-rumped, Yellow, and most exciting, Nashville Warblers! I did not log any of these on eBird, however—not right away. Because I am not good with warbler songs, I needed to confirm these in at least one or two other ways.

Once the Orange-crowned Warblers arrive, I know I’m in for a real challenge to start distinguishing different warblers by song. That’s when I lean heavily on Sound ID.

One is to compare what you are hearing with known recordings on other apps. If what you are hearing is identical to vocalizations in the Merlin sound library or on the Sibley app, depending on your experience, I feel confident that you can go ahead and record the bird—again keeping in mind the caveat that some birds imitate others.

Still, I only do this when I am really sure the two songs are the same—understanding that bird songs from the same species can vary tremendously. If I have any doubts, I wait to log a bird on eBird until I have confirmed it with a visual sighting or by running it past an expert. With this technique, Sound ID isn’t cinching the identification for me, but it is helping me a lot by giving me a better idea of what to look for.

This morning, however, I could not find any of the three warblers in the first thicket, so Lola and I kept hiking. Ten minutes later, I spotted a Yellow-rumped Warbler in a tree—and recorded it—but it was the Nashville Warbler I was really after.

Lincoln’s Sparrows are hands-down one of my and Braden’s favorite songbirds. Unlike the warblers, they also seem kind of curious and make themselves for visible to the eager birder.

Eventually, I came to another thicket, and here I was thrilled to see my first Lincoln’s Sparrow of the year. Just as enticing, I also was hearing warbler sounds all around me so I turned on Sound ID once again. This time, Orange-crowned and Nashville songs started lighting up Sound ID like a pinball machine. Thanks to the app, I was quickly able to distinguish the two species by ear, and I confirmed these by playing other recordings on the Merlin library. Soon after, I actually saw the birds for myself. Yes! I thought, and finally logged them onto eBird.

Sound ID has helped me find many more Nashville Warblers than when Braden and I first started birding ten years ago.

All together, Lola and I saw eight new first-of-year species on our hike. For several of them, Sound ID not only helped me identify them, it alerted me to look for them in the first place. I want to emphasize, however, that Sound ID is not a substitute for putting in the hours to learn and identify birds yourself. Recently, Cornell has issued friendly cautions not to rely on it as your sole basis for identification. Instead, I consider Sound ID a wonderful “helper tool” that can especially assist beginning birders, as well as more experienced birders like myself who just find it difficult to learn vocalizations. And did I mention the Merlin app (with Sound ID) is free? Cornell Lab, the app’s developer, has generously made it available to anyone who wants it. Even better for our international readers, Cornell Lab is rapidly expanding what the app can identify to countries around the globe. All you need is a phone. Learn more at https://merlin.allaboutbirds.org/.

Checklist 1: https://ebird.org/checklist/S172160962

Checklist 2: https://ebird.org/checklist/S172176329