Category Archives: Songbirds

Wedding Birding in Washington State, Part II

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!

In case you missed Wedding Birding Part I, click here!

Saturday was the long-anticipated wedding day of our friends, Jazz and Brad, but the Big Event wasn’t kicking off until 3:30 p.m. True to my recent trend, I awoke at 3:30 a.m. with ample time to hit the birding spot that I most looked forward to on the trip: March Point. Why? Because I thought it might offer my best opportunity to find both seabirds and shorebirds. Looking at a map, in fact, March Point looked like a wonderful, natural area and I was already envisioning pristine beaches and offshore waters loaded with birds. Imagine my surprise when I arrived at 6:00 a.m. to find that March Point is actually the site of a gigantic Marathon Petroleum refinery!

**March Point was not *quite* the undisturbed natural area I was expecting!**

It was a cold, blustery morning, but undeterred, I pulled over and scanned the offshore waters. I spotted several groups of presumed Pelagic Cormorants, but precious little else on the waters or the shore. With some persistence, I did locate another Pigeon Guillemot out near the ginormous pier jutting out into Puget Sound, but it was slim pickins.

**What do you suppose this Pelagic Cormorant is about to eat? I’m guessing an eel-like fish called a wrasse!**

I kept driving, pulling over now and then to scan the shore—no doubt closely monitored by the refinery’s security team. Finally, at one pull-out, I spotted a bird near the top of my trip wish list: a Black Oystercatcher. I watched this magnificent bird from my car for several minutes before it flew off, leaving a smile on my face.

**This Black Oystercatcher at March Point definitely strolled into contention for “Trip Bird” honors for our Wedding Day weekend.**

Turning around, I made my way back around immense oil storage tanks and stopped to study some Glaucous-winged X Western hybrid gulls. It took some research and a discussion with Braden to figure out exactly what these gulls were. Glaucous-winged Gulls are known for beautiful soft gray wings and wing tips, but all of the gulls I was seeing looked too dark—yet not dark enough to be Western Gulls. According to Braden, though, this part of Washington State was dead center in the transition zone between the two species, and accordingly, most of the birds were hybrids.

**This Glaucous-winged X Western hybrid gull is typical of the gulls I saw during our entire trip to Washington: too dark for Glaucous-winged, too light for Western. Very educational!**

On my way back to the hotel, I stopped at Padilla Bay at the base of March Point for a nice visit with some warblers and swallows. There, I heard my year’s first Black-headed Grosbeak giving off its frenetic robin-like song. Then, it was back to Burlington to prepare for the wedding.

The wedding was a smash hit, full of love and music and joy. And never fear, dear readers, I did amass an eBird list of six species at the wedding venue, including the year’s first look at a Black-headed Grosbeak, singing in celebration of Jazz and Brad’s big day. Oh, and they (Jazz and Brad, not the grosbeaks) served Thai food at the wedding. How good is that???

Alas, the next day, we were due to return to Seattle for our flight home. Fortunately, we didn’t need to be at the airport until noon or one o’clock, leaving time for one last morning birding adventure. I really wasn’t sure where I should go. I wasn’t having much luck along the coast, and felt I’d seen most of the forest birds that interested me. But there were two more species I wanted to take a shot at: Black-throated Gray Warbler and Red-breasted Sapsucker.

**Ted Reep Park offered the trip’s last birding opportunity—and my best shot at seeing both Red-breasted Sapsuckers and Black-throated Gray Warblers.** **A bit of bush-whacking required!**

It had been years since I’d seen either one of these birds and, well, I was missing them. Lucky me, eBird showed a spot only a mile from our hotel which had recorded both birds in the past month. I wasn’t sure what my chances of finding them might be, but after a quick bowl of oatmeal, I made my way over to Ted Reep Park. I parked in the deserted YMCA lot, despite warning signs threatening that I would be towed. After all, I was a member of the Missoula YMCA!

From the time I pulled up, the spot looked—or rather, sounded—promising. Merlin’s Sound ID immediately picked up White-crowned Sparrow, Black-headed Grosbeak, Warbling Vireo, Song Sparrow, Yellow Warbler, and more, and I soon started seeing some of these birds.

**You just gotta love Song Sparrows. Not only are they incredibly handsome critters, they often pose for close-up photographs!**

This was thick riparian habitat, however, where visuals were hard to come by and most birding was by ear—not ideal for someone like myself with hearing disabilities and a brain that had trouble remembering bird vocalizations. My new hearing aids were a vast improvement over my old ones, though, and with the help of Sound ID I began teasing out most of the species around me. Then, I heard something that got me really excited: a stuttering drumming sound, like a car having trouble starting up! A sapsucker! But which one?

A quick look at my Sibley app told me that Red-breasted was the only sapsucker remotely likely to be in this area, so I plunged into the woods, following the trail toward the stutter-step drumming. Predictably, the trail grew more and more sketchy, and I soon found myself crawling under and over logs that had fallen across the path. Nevertheless, after five minutes, I found myself standing directly beneath the sapsucker drumming.

There were at least two sapsuckers—but probably three or four—and it became evident that they were dueling, perhaps over territories or mates. But darn it, try as I might, I could not spot any of them against the backlit tree trunks and branches! Just as frustrating, the birds kept moving around, so like a Keystone Cop I chased the birds up and down the trail. Finally, I despaired of getting a look at any of them, but by now I at least was confident that these were indeed Red-breasted Sapsuckers. And wouldn’t you know, as soon as I decided that, two of the birds chased each other right by me, their red heads clearly visible even in the dark forest!

Happy, I bushwhacked through raspberry vines and a swath of chest-high grass until I ran into another trail that led me back toward my car. I still hadn’t seen a Black-throated Gray Warbler, and didn’t find one on the hike back, but I was delighted to have discovered such a wonderful birding spot. It again reaffirmed how important it is to protect natural habitats for animals and people. Bravo Washington for protecting places like Ted Reep Park!

Washington Wedding Trip Report!

I failed to capture any photos of the Red-breasted Sapsuckers, but just love this White-crowned Sparrow’s pose out at March Point. I think he’s singing “Once we all wean ourselves off of fossil fuels, we can turn this place back into the natural habitat it is meant to be!” At least that’s what Google Translate came up with.

Wedding Birding in Washington State, Part I

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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

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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

Meditating with Loons: Spontaneous Birding Spectacular, Part II

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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: A Step-by-Step Guide for the Independent Traveler, for instance, or the best kids’ woodpecker book ever, Woodpeckers: Drilling Holes & Bagging Bugs. Here, we are pleased to continue last week’s “spontaneous” narrative. For Part I, see our last post. Enjoy!

After giving my keynote talk to the Montana Library Association (and yes, it went well, thank you!), I changed out of my good clothes, checked out of my room and hit the road—but not too far. It was early afternoon by now, but before heading home I thought I’d better take advantage of the opportunity to visit Warm Springs Wildlife Management Area, one of Montana’s top birding destinations. It being migration season, the possibilities were almost endless of what I might find, but I kept my expectations low. Why? Primarily because much of Warm Springs is not easily accessible. The refuge consists mainly of several very large reservoirs designed to help clean toxic chemicals from the waters pouring out of the world famous Berkeley Pit copper mine in Butte. The road, however, only gets close to these bodies of water in certain places, so it’s easy to miss rarities that might show up. Nonetheless, I took the “back entrance” into the refuge and soon found myself at the bottom of the large, southernmost reservoir. The scene before me immediately put me in a happy place.

**This photo doesn’t capture the size and scope of the Warm Springs ponds—or how amazing they look filled with waterfowl!**

Stretching across the water were hundreds, no, thousands of ducks and other water birds, and I quickly set up my scope for a proper look. I usually try to estimate bird numbers wherever I am, but as I searched across the reservoir with the scope, I quickly abandoned that effort. I recorded 5000 coots, but that could easily be low. I also saw hundreds of Northern Shovelers and Ruddy Ducks, and noted plenty of Buffleheads, Ring-necked Ducks, Lesser Scaups, Gadwalls, American Wigeons, and more. A duck party!

**Just a few of the birds stretching out before me at Warm Springs. Pop quiz: can you identify three species?**

When scoping such a vast array of birds, it’s a natural instinct to look for the unusual or rare species, and after a few minutes, I landed on a pair of Red-necked Grebes—my first of the year. My biggest find, however, was the year’s first Yellow-rumped Warbler (Audubon’s) in the trees next to me! After making an inadequate attempt to eBird what I saw before me, I jumped back in the minivan and continued up the road. I passed a resident pair of Bald Eagles, and then pulled over at a small fishing access next to a long dike that separated this reservoir from the next. I grabbed my binoculars and ventured out onto the dike, and right away saw another Red-necked Grebe. Then, I recognized a bird that made me rush back to the minivan for my camera. I hurried back out onto the dike and trained my lens on it—a Common Loon!

During breeding season, Red-necked Grebes have a circumpolar distribution, but in the US they breed only in a few areas along our northern border. Fortunately, Montana is one of those places—though this guy/gal may well have been heading to Canada or Alaska.

Now, loons are not exactly rare in Montana, but they aren’t gimmes, either (for instance, see post “Rare Bird Hat Trick”). Last year, I saw only one—a quick fly-over at Glacier National Park. If you don’t visit one of the lakes where they breed in summer, you have to catch them during migration. Braden and I have seen a number of COLOs during fall migration, but this was the first I could remember in spring. But wait. As I was trying to get a decent photo of this loon, another one popped up nearby. “No way!” I muttered out loud. But wait, then I spotted a third, and eventually, a fourth! (I think I saw a fifth, but these ‘torpedoes’ can travel so far under water that I can’t be sure.)

**This pair of Common Loons defines the word serenity.**

Needless to say, I felt “loonstatic.” My only problem? Every bird was backlit, making a good photo impossible. To try to rectify this, I walked around to the parking area where I could get “up-light” of the birds, hoping they wouldn’t depart before I reached a good spot. They didn’t. I took enough photos that I finally got a really nice one (see below). My other problem, though, is that . . . I needed to relax.

**After capturing my best COLO shot ever, it was time to Zen out with some quiet loon time.**

More and more, recently, Braden and I have discussed the obsession to rack up species and get good photos without pausing to really appreciate them. Both of us, in fact, have been making an effort just to be still in the moment, and with four stunningly gorgeous loons diving for food in front of me, this seemed like a perfect time. I sat down on a rock and set my camera and binoculars on the ground next to me. I watched the loons for a few moments and then just closed my eyes. I thanked the universe for this special moment and tried to breathe deeply, focusing on the now for a few minutes.

Alas, I did not attain “loon-lightenment,” but when I opened my eyes, the loons were still floating, preening, and diving in front of me. Several times, I watched them surface with crayfish in their bills. I’m not sure if the loons did anything special to them, such as knocking loose their exoskeletons, but down the hatch they went. It was beautiful.

**A little “crawfish loon-touffée” for lunch!**

My birding had not finished, either. After Warm Springs, I tooled up the road a few miles to another spot that many birders don’t take time to check out—Racetrack Pond. Often, there’s not much to see at Racetrack, but I had occasionally stumbled into some treats. Again, it was migration season, so you just never knew. As I pulled off the interstate and turned right, I immediately saw a couple of hundred gulls out on small islands in the pond. “Hm,” I thought. “Maybe I can pick up some California Gulls there.” As I drove closer, however, I realized that they weren’t gulls. They were Snow Geese!

I pulled over and again set up the spotting scope—and not just to see the Snow Geese. I had an ulterior motive. Almost exactly a year earlier, at Browns Lake, I had stumbled into some migrating Ross’s Geese mixed in with a large Snow Geese flock. “Maybe there are some Ross’s hiding in this one,” I thought with an evil grin. I diligently scanned the flock for several minutes, mainly looking for any geese with stubby pink bills. Ross’s, though, also are a bit smaller than SNGO and tend to have a cleaner, whiter appearance. I thought I was going to strike out when I glimpsed two geese that fit the, ahem, bill. I watched them for at least ten minutes before discarding any doubts. Yay! This was only my third time ever seeing Ross’s Geese, and to get them two years in a row felt like an accomplishment. By the way, ROGOs are also a wonderful conservation success story. Their numbers had dropped to just a few thousand by the 1950s. Today, it is estimated that there are more than two million! Let’s hear it for conservation!

**Can you pick out the two Ross’s Geese in this photo? Once you know what you’re looking for, they stand out like, well, um, Ross’s Geese.** **The prominent, clean white goose just right of center is one of them. The other is swimming toward it from about 10 o’clock.**

My discoveries weren’t over. At the north end of the pond, I again pulled out the scope to discover a Greater Yellowlegs, a Killdeer, and two real surprises—an American Avocet and five, count ‘em, FIVE Marbled Godwits. “Perhaps they’re heading to the same place as yesterday’s Willets,” I wondered (see our last post). I later learned that large flocks of avocets had been rampaging through the state, so this one was right on schedule.

**With the help of my spotting scope, I was able to pick out the American Avocet (far left) and Marbled Godwits (far right) along the far shore of Racetrack Pond.**

With another wonderful day of birding under my belt, it was time to head home, but really, these days just primed my birding pump. Many adventures lie ahead—especially when Braden returns home from Costa Rica in a couple of weeks. Be prepared for plenty of posts this summer!

Owls, Curlews, Mergansers, and Willets: Spontaneous Birding Spectacular, Part I

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Today, Braden and I would like to especially welcome our increasing number of international readers. Our posts are now regularly viewed by birders from more than a dozen different countries, and new countries seem to pop up every week. Thank you for your interest and we invite you to comment and share your own birding interests and experiences! Oh, and check out the quiz in the last photo caption!

I hadn’t intended my visit to central Montana last week to be a birding trip. Rather, I had been invited to Butte to speak at the annual conference of the Montana Library Association, and so had planned a simple, quick overnight. A few days before the conference, however, things got more complicated. Braden has heroically gone without a car during his first three years in college, but as he looked forward to his senior year, we all agreed it was time for his own wheels, and I had been doing a little “car scouting” while he finishes up his semester abroad in Costa Rica. Wouldn’t you know it, I found what looked like the perfect used vehicle in Billings. “Hm,” I thought, “if I got up early, I could drive to Billings on Thursday, look at the car, and make it back to Bozeman (most of the way to Butte) ahead of the conference.”

Long story short: I bought the car, and Friday morning, found myself with an entire morning to bird between Bozeman and Butte.

Brown Pelicans are my favorite birds, but American White Pelicans definitely make the top 100. Unlike their brown cousins, AWPEs prefer inland freshwater habitats for breeding. I’m guessing these might be heading to Bowdoin NWR near Malta, but they could be on their way farther north.

Three Forks ponds can be very hit and miss. I had actually stopped there on my way to Billings, but hadn’t found anything too notable except some American White Pelicans. This morning, though, I decided to try them again before heading up Bench Road. Was I in for a surprise! The first bird I spotted in Three Forks ponds was a bird I had never before discovered on my own: a Red-breasted Merganser! Not only that, I found seven more in the next pond over. These northern breeders pass through Montana only during migration—and not in large numbers—so I felt particularly fortunate to see them. The ponds, though, held other surprises.

**Red-breasted Mergansers can be distinguished from Common Mergansers by their spiky “punk” hair-do, gray sides (here, under water), and of course, that reddish band on their breasts.**

Beyond a much larger group of pelicans, I saw a good assortment of ducks and then spotted birds with bold black-and-white wings fly to an island in the second pond. Shorebirds, I thought excitedly, running back to the minivan for my spotting scope. Other than Killdeer and Spotted Sandpipers, I had never before seen shorebirds at Three Forks, and my pulse picked up as I focused in on a group of eight gray birds at the edge of the island. I quickly ran through all the possibilities in my head, examining their size, color, and bills. My conclusion: Willets! They were obviously migrating, and this was the first time I’d ever seen them moving through this part of Montana. Apparently, I was not alone as the birds’ timing landed them on the Montana Rare Bird alert for the day!

**This group of eight migrating Willets surprised me by making the Montana Rare Bird Alert! They also tested my powers of ID elimination.**

From the ponds, I headed up Bench Road. This was the first place Braden and I ever saw Burrowing Owls, and I hoped to see them again today—but didn’t hold out a lot of hope as I’d missed them my last couple of times here. The road, though, holds a wealth of other birds. In the lower stretch, I pulled over at the marsh to enjoy my first Yellow-headed Blackbirds, Marsh Wrens, and Cinnamon Teals of the year. It was the road’s upper stretch that most excited me, however.

**Cinnamon Teal. Most stunning duck ever? Maybe not, but definitely part of the conversation!**

As I climbed up over the first “bench,” I smiled at the many Horned Larks and Western Meadowlarks singing along the road. After a couple of miles, though, I thought I saw a larger bird landing along a side road. Could it be a Burrowing Owl? I turned the minivan down this sketchy, rutted path and after a couple of hundred meters saw a large shape in a field. It wasn’t a Burrowing Owl, but almost as exciting—my first Long-billed Curlew of the year! This greatly interested me because Braden and I had never birded this road so early in spring and I didn’t realize LBCUs would already be here. Turning the van around, though, I spotted four more calling in flight, obviously ready to get busy breeding!

**There is something magical about seeing a large, majestic shorebird setting up a breeding territory in our nation’s grassy heartland!**

I also encountered the first of three women who were birding as a team in their own cars. She said she had spotted a couple of Burrowing Owls earlier and that one of her friends was up on Baseline Road (which tees off of Bench Road) at a BUOW burrow. I decided to head there, but before I reached it, saw a medium-sized brown shape flying low to the ground across a field. I hit the brakes and raised my binoculars. “Yes!” A Burrowing Owl! Not only that, a second one hunched down next to it. I snapped a poor photo from my car, but didn’t want to disturb them by getting out. BUOWs, though, are incredibly adorable animals and these two had obviously excavated a burrow here at the edge of a field. I hoped the farmer would notice them and not unknowingly evict them!

**Come plowing time, I am hoping the owner of this field spots the burrow of this delightful Burrowing Owl couple.**

I continued up the road and sure enough found the other burrow that was staked out by the friend of the first woman I had met. The owls didn’t show right away, but soon popped up for a distant view. These appeared to be in much safer habitat than the field of the first pair. After fifteen minutes, I started the minivan back up, wishing the owls luck and hoping Bench Road would be a home for them for years to come. On my way back down the road, I stopped at the marshy area for one last treat—a great, brief glimpse at a Virginia Rail!

**Montana birding at its finest, cruising (almost) deserted prairie roads for amazing grassland birds.**

That evening in Butte, after my first talk at the conference, I paid my first visit to Butte’s Lexington Street ponds and wetlands, which were undergoing a major birder-friendly construction project. I set up my scope outside of a chain-link construction fence and saw a great variety of ducks, along with a Western Grebe—a bird that had never before been reported there! As I was packing up, I heard a familiar rattling call and turned to see two gorgeous Sandhill Cranes touching down a couple of hundred meters away. As wonderful as this all was, however, my spontaneous birding weekend had only just begun. Stay tuned for Part 2.