Category Archives: Spring Migration

Vortex Viper HD Binoculars (Equipment Review, and/or Texas 2025 Part 2-½)

I hope that you’ve enjoyed our last two posts about my recent Texas birding adventures. Never fear, more Texas posts are coming! Today, however, we’d like to offer up another in our popular new series of equipment reviews. Why? Because my Texas trip gave me a wonderful opportunity to field test a pair of Viper HD 8X42 binoculars from Vortex.

Vortex Viper HDs offer great quality at a reasonable price.

If you’re out in the field a lot, you’ll see many birders using the Viper HDs, and for excellent reasons. In hand, the binoculars are sturdy and comfortable to hold, yet lightweight enough to carry around all day without discomfort. Like all Vortex optics, they come with an incredible no-questions-asked, fully transferable, lifetime warranty—something almost priceless for the peace of mind it offers. But the question remains: how do they perform in the field?

Backlit conditions—especially on water—are one of the true tests of binocular clarity and light transmission. The Viper HDs performed extremely well under these conditions.

My Texas trip allowed me to test the Vipers in a variety of birding situations. In my last post, I shared my thrilling visit to the Anahuac National Wildlife Refuge (now renamed to the Jocelyn Nungaray NWR), and almost immediately, I was confronted with the daunting task of observing shorebirds and waterfowl under extreme backlit conditions. Anyone who has experienced this knows how difficult it is to discern details of birds when bright glare turns the birds into shadowy figures, and I immediately thought, “Oh man, I don’t know if I’ll even be able to start identifying some of these critters.” To my surprise, the Viper HDs cut right through the glare. One small backlit shorebird particularly caught my attention, and I was sure I wouldn’t be able to see enough details to ID it. Focusing in with the Vipers, the bird’s features just popped—including its yellow legs, which allowed me to identify it as a Least Sandpiper.

The Viper HD’s excellent light transmission allowed me to ID this Least Sandpiper and other shorebirds under badly backlit conditions.

A couple of days later, I arrived at an exciting new (to me) location called Lafitte’s Cove on Galveston Island. This cool little nature reserve sits in the middle of an upscale housing development and features ponds, walking paths, and wooded areas. My main goal was to try to find migrating warblers and, thanks to the advice of some local birders, I staked out a drip in the wooded area that provides fresh drinking water for birds. Soon, I saw two shapes flitting around in deep shadow behind the drip. One leaped out into the sunlight—a Tennessee Warbler. The other bird proved much more cagy. Even as it stayed in the shadows, though, the Vipers gave me the sharp, full-color details that allowed me to confirm that it was a Nashville Warbler—a real surprise since I had never seen one before in the eastern US!

Lafitte’s Cove on Galveston Island was a wonderful addition to my list of spring migration birding hotspots—and helped me test the Viper HDs under dark, shady conditions.

As always, prospective buyers will ask, “Are the Vipers worth what they cost?” On the Vortex website, the 8X42s and 10X42s list for $719.99 and $729.99 respectively—not an inconsiderable sum. However, in “real life” the binoculars can be purchased for under $500, putting them in range of a doable investment for many birders who are ready to get serious, but can’t or don’t want to shell out thousands of dollars. Even for $500, though, you expect binoculars to be durable and weather-resistant, and the Vipers deliver on that count. Other great features include:

* a diopter ring that allows independent focus adjustment for each eye

* long (18 mm), rubberized eye-relief tubes designed to press eyeglasses against them without damage

* a close (six-foot) minimum focal distance

A comfortable grip and long, comfortable eye-relief tubes are just two great selling points for the Viper HDs.

As I have tried various brands and models of binoculars, though, for me it has become mainly about clarity. In other words, how well do the binoculars transmit light and how sharp is the image they deliver? As noted above, the Vipers deliver excellent performance in this regard. During my week in Texas, I never found a situation in which I had difficulty picking out colors and other details. That’s because, for the extra price investment, Vipers offer two advantages over many cheaper binoculars:

* extra low-dispersion glass that reduces chromatic aberrations and improves light transmission, even under difficult conditions such as those I experienced above

* high-quality coatings on both the glass and internal prisms which improve light transmission, creating a sharper, clearer image.

I have not yet found the perfect binoculars—if they indeed exist—and one thing I wasn’t crazy about is that I had to turn the focus knob quite a bit to bring the Vipers into focus between near and far situations. Presumably, this allows users to obtain a more precise focus on an object, but I found it wasted a bit of time and effort. This is a personal preference, however, and I’m guessing that most users will be just fine with this.

A final note: frequent FSB contributor Roger Kohn and his wife both happen to use Vortex Vipers. “We are very happy with them,” he says. “Really good quality glass, clear images. Feels good in the hands.”

Conclusion: the Vortex Viper HDs are an outstanding pair of binoculars for those ready to make a mid-range investment into the world’s greatest hobby. Sturdy construction, a light weight, and excellent light transmission make them suitable for almost every situation, and will provide years of satisfaction to the vast majority of birders.

Vortex Vipers

The author received no financial compensation for this review, but binocular images and sample binoculars are provided courtesy of Vortex.

Anahuac Lifer Attack (Texas 2025 Part 2)

After my morning exploring Peveto Woods (see last post), I had intended to visit another favorite coastal Texas location, Sabine Woods (see “Going Cuckoo for Fall Warblers in Texas”). Alas, my long previous travel day caught up with me so I decided to grab a siesta back at my hotel in Winnie. Besides, it didn’t look like the warblers and other migrants were showing up in large numbers, and I reasoned that I wasn’t likely to see much more at Sabine Woods than I’d seen at Peveto that morning. Instead, that afternoon I decided to visit another Texas favorite of Braden’s and mine: Anahuac National Wildlife Refuge.

Braden during our first visit to Anahuac NWR in 2016.

The refuge lies about halfway between Winnie and High Island, and Braden and I had many fond memories of it. During our Big Year in 2016, we’d seen our first Scissor-tailed Flycatcher here, along with our first Common Yellowthroat. I especially liked driving a route called the Shoveler Pond Loop. This afternoon, I didn’t expect any major surprises, but it was a pleasant way to watch Roseate Spoonbills, Common Gallinules, and a variety of other water birds. As I approached the refuge entrance, however, I got my first major surprise: the refuge had a new name! Only in the past few weeks, Anahuac had been renamed the Jocelyn Nungaray NWR. I later looked up how the name change had come about. I like to keep this blog politics-free, but I will just say that the new name resulted from both a tragic story and crass political shenanigans that apparently caught everyone off-guard. Feel free to look it up yourself and draw your own conclusions.

The good news? Shoveler Pond Loop looked better than I’d ever seen it! The loop consists of a 2.5-mile road that circumnavigates a 300-acre wetlands, and the last time I’d visited, in 2021, the latter seemed clogged with vegetation. Not so today. A large area at the loop’s beginning had been cleared out to create wonderful habitat for wading and dabbling birds and as I proceeded, I noticed many other revived sections as well. In preparation to write this post, I called the refuge to make sure that I wasn’t imagining things, and Park Ranger Chris Campbell confirmed that a couple of years ago, they had drained the wetlands and taken steps to remove large areas of cane grass.

Shoveler Pond Loop is definitely one of my Top 5 “car birding” routes in the United States.

The results looked terrific. As I began making my way around the loop, I immediately noticed large numbers of Black-necked Stilts and dowitchers—probably Long-billed, according to Campbell. Both Greater and Lesser Yellowlegs made a good show of it, too, and it wasn’t long before I began obsessing over some smaller shorbs. I eventually IDed two of these as Dunlins, and was especially pleased to find a Least Sandpiper as well. Alligators also seemed to relish the new-and-improved loop, and I watched with amusement as Black-necked Stilts nonchalantly probed the shallows only a few feet from the six- or eight-foot crocodilians.

Uh, Mr. Black-necked Stilt, have you looked over your shoulder lately?

I soon found a great collection of waders including Roseate Spoonbills, Tricolored Herons, Snowy Egrets, and both White and White-faced Ibises. It was when I turned the first corner, however, that the real excitement began.

“Uh, just where do you think you’re landing, Mr. Tricolored Heron? Us Neotropic Cormorants and the herps over there were here first.”

First up? A kind of duck neither Braden nor I had ever seen before: Fulvous Whistling Ducks! “Wow! Lifer!” I exclaimed out loud. For some reason, it never occurred to me that I would see these ducks, but there they were—sitting only fifty feet from their compadres, Black-bellied Whistling Ducks! And the hits were just getting started.

As I rounded the second corner, a narrow canal paralleled the road to my left, and suddenly, a medium-sized, reddish-brown bird flew out from beneath the road to some reeds across the canal. Astonishingly, it was another lifer, one that I recognized immediately: a Least Bittern! One of the smallest members of the heron family, Least Bitterns apparently are not all that rare. Ranger Campbell told me that they are very common year-round at the refuge, but the thing is, they are incredibly shy. I will just tell you that I never really expected to see one, and yet here one was! Not only that, it struck a pleasing pose while I kept my camera shutter clicking.

Seeing my lifer Least Bittern not only justified the entire trip, it captured Bird of the Trip honors!

I had barely started again when I noticed a couple of terns flying around. Generally while I am birding, I ignore terns and gulls until I’ve identified everything else. As one of the terns zoomed by my car, however, I noticed that it had an oddly blunt thick black bill. “No way,” I said, rushing to take some ID photos. My hunch was correct. These were Gull-billed Terns—lifer Gull-billed Terns!

Terns favor the prepared mind. If I hadn’t been birding for more than a decade, the black bill on this guy may never have caught my attention.

Really, I could hardly believe it. I arrived at Anahuac expecting to see birds that I had seen many times before. Now, within the space of ten minutes, I added three new species to my life list! It seemed so preposterous that I laughed out loud. What’s more, this was still only my first day of birding on my Texas trip. One thing was for sure: I never would have had such success if it weren’t for the hard-working government employees we all depend on. It just shows the wisdom of investing in protecting our natural resources for the common good.

Peveto Woods, Louisiana: Spring Migration Hotspot

FatherSonBirding is a labor of love for both Braden and me, and our goal is to entertain and educate, and to promote bird conservation. If you’d like to support our work, please consider buying one or more of Sneed’s books and make a donation to one of the bird-related groups mentioned below. Thank you!

There’s a good reason the blog has been quiet the past couple of weeks. Braden is finishing up his honor’s project before graduating (gasp!) from the University of Maine while I jumped on a chance to head to Texas for the sixth time since Braden and I began birding. The trip arose from an invitation to talk about my book Birding for Boomers at the Mountains and Plains Independent Booksellers Association spring conference in San Antonio. Happily, the event took place during spring migration, so I of course booked three extra nights before and three extra nights after the conference to see some birds!

As soon as I picked up my rental car in San Antonio, I high-tailed it the four hours to Winnie, Texas on the coast just east of Houston. Why Winnie? Because it provides great access to several well-known stopover places for migrating songbirds and offers a chance to soak up a variety of coastal and aquatic species as well. For this trip, though, I was determined to explore some new birding areas, and my first morning I got up before dawn and headed to my first destination, Peveto Woods Sanctuary, just across the border in Louisiana.

A bonus to driving to Peveto Woods is that once you cross the bridge into Louisiana at Sabine Pass, you can find a wonderful little shorebird area, especially if it happens to be low tide. And by the way, I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of posting Black-necked Stilts. So sue me already!
Peveto Woods offers delightful paths through trees, any one of which could be hiding a migrating songbird!

Peveto Woods is owned and operated by the Baton Rouge Audubon Society and like Sabine Woods run by the Texas Ornithological Society and the more famous High Island sanctuaries operated by Houston Audubon, Peveto consists of a patch of forest right along the shore. As soon as I pulled up, I knew I was going to like it. Trails headed off in all directions, crisscrossing forty acres of mostly oak-dominated woodlands. I saw two friendly-looking guys, Scott Delaney and Paul Wallace, who looked like they knew their way around and asked the best way to explore. It turns out, they had been volunteering their time here for many years and suggested I make my way to the east fence line and work my way back. They also explained that the land where the woods sat was called a chenier, a place where wave actions had piled sand and shells up higher than the surrounding area, allowing trees to grow. Hurricanes still occasionally obliterated the place, but the vegetation recovered quickly.

Hey, I’m gettin’ pretty good at these selfies–this one with my new birding friends, Paul (center) and Scott.

Unfortunately, I quickly learned that the main birds I had hoped to see—warblers—had not yet arrived in significant numbers. I was about a week early for many species and, for now, northerly winds had kept others grounded in the Yucatan. Only one hundred yards down the trail, however, I encountered a nice little mixed flock of other species. Sound ID picked up a White-eyed Vireo, and I quickly saw a Warbling Vireo along with at least four Red-eyed Vireos. Joining them were several Orchard Orioles, a couple of Yellow-rumped Warblers, and an Orange-crowned Warbler. Most were flitting about high in the trees, making photography difficult, but my heart warmed at seeing them.

Although the more exotic warblers had yet to reach the Gulf coast, this (Myrtle) Yellow-rumped Warbler tried to hold down the fort till they arrived!

One awesome thing about Peveto is that you can walk right out to the beach and here I saw the trip’s first Black-bellied Plover, along with a couple of Royal Terns and Willets.

For those aware of my love of Black-bellied Plovers, you can imagine how delighted I was to find the first one of the trip on my very first outing.

Returning to the woods, I kept strolling, finding migrating Gray Catbirds and pre-migration White-crowned Sparrows. A couple of Anhingas flew over, and then Sound ID picked up what would be the star of my visit: a Yellow-throated Vireo.

I just fell in love with this Yellow-throated Vireo. In fact, YTVIs are one of my new favorite birds, and I would see or hear them twice more on the trip.

I had seen YTVIs before, but so early in my birding career that they had gotten lost in the steepness of my learning curve. Now, a bird in glorious yellow, white, and gray plumage perched right above me. I shot some quick photos, and then just stood and admired this incredible creature. Like most other vireo species, this one had migrated from Central or South America, completing the eighteen-hour or so flight directly across the Gulf of Mexico.

It seemed like years since I’d seen Indigo Buntings—and then, only females or juveniles. That made it all the more sweet to find these two “Sharp-dressed Men.”

It did make me wonder, though, why the vireos had made it “on time” but most of the warblers had not. “Are vireos stronger fliers?” I wondered. Or had they just timed things better? Either way, I was delighted to see them and get to know them better. And that’s birding for you. Even if the birds don’t always meet your own timetable, they always present a fascinating learning opportunity or two—or, as today, a chance to embrace and enjoy a new group of birds. I rounded off my morning by finding a couple of gorgeous Indigo Buntings on the brushier end of the preserve. I exchanged email addresses with my new friends Scott and Paul, and invited them to look me up when they came to Montana. I suspected, though, that I might make it back to Peveto Woods long before they got to Montana!

My checklist: https://ebird.org/checklist/S223902911

Note: As I post this, the warblers are definitely arriving at Peveto Woods. If you live nearby, what are you waiting for?

The Shorebirds of North America (Book Review)

With spring shorebird migration coming on, we take a break from our Colombian birding series to review a new book that will help prepare you for the exciting, sometimes daunting task of identifying and enjoying some of the world’s most spectacular long-distance migrants. Bird—and read—on!

Legions of FatherSonBirding readers have probably noticed that Braden and I have increasingly become interested—nay, obsessed—by shorebirds over the years. See, for example, our posts

Montana Shorebird Surprise

Abbotts Lagoon, Point Reyes National Seashore (or Chasing Migrants, Part II)

Our fascination may seem odd given that Montana is hardly the world’s epicenter of shorebird activity. Then again, their very rarity here renders them all the more alluring to find and learn about. A natural birding progression also is at work. When beginning one’s birding journey, we birders naturally focus on common, familiar species. As confidence, curiosity, and ambition grow, so does the desire to learn about and identify more difficult groups of birds. When we first began birding, Braden and I focused on woodpeckers, thrushes, waterfowl, waders, owls, and other easier-to-identify species. Over the years, we have plunged into increasingly challenging groups including warblers, sparrows, flycatchers (Braden), gulls, and perhaps more than anything, “shorbs.”

A flock of Western Sandpipers at Point Reyes during my September visit to California with Scott Callow.

When out scanning beaches or shallow lakes, the most common phrase Braden repeats to me is “Shorebirds are tough.” This usually happens when I am whining about the difficulty in distinguishing between off-season Least and Semipalmated Sandpipers, or White-rumped and Baird’s Sandpipers—especially at a distance. But many shorbs are relatively easy to identify, and over the years both Braden and I have come to appreciate—nay, savor—the entire breadth of these fascinating, superbly adapted critters. Imagine my joy, then, when a brand new, beautifully photographed book about shorebirds arrived on my doorstep: Pete Dunne’s and Kevin T. Karlson’s The Shorebirds of North America: A Natural History and Photographic Celebration (Princeton University Press, 2024).

The Shorebirds of North America by Pete Dunne and Kevin T. Karlson (Princeton University Press, 2024)

To say that The Shorebirds of North America is ambitious would be like calling the 18,000-mile round-trip migration of a Red Knot “neat” instead of “epic” or “mind-blowing.” This terrific addition to birding literature not only gives a wonderful overview of the lives of shorebirds, it provides specific accounts of all the shorebirds likely to interest you. That makes this book a wonderful, highly readable reference for both beginning and advanced birders.

The bulk of the book consists of species accounts of 52 kinds of shorebirds known to breed in North America and my guess is that you, like me, will skip directly to species that happen to interest you at the present time. This is a great approach. One of the first shorebirds I looked up was Black-bellied Plover, a bird I have become more and more enthralled with the past several years. As I started to read, my understanding of this handsome creature immediately swelled. I didn’t realize, for instance, that it is one of the world’s most widely distributed shorebirds, or that it is called Grey Plover outside of North America. What really tickled me was learning how fearlessly aggressive these birds can be:

“On the high Arctic tundra breeding grounds,” the authors write, “this sturdy plover is a fierce protector of its large nest area, and it strikes fear into aerial predators as large as gulls and jaegers. Woe to any flying predator if it hears the whistled alarm call of Black-bellied Plover as it flies swift and low across the tundra before rising to spear the intruder in the belly with its strong bill . . .”

The 4-letter breeding code for Black-bellied Plovers is BBPL. After reading the entry for the bird in The Shorebirds of North America, however, I realized that BBPL could easily stand for “Bad-ass-bellied Plover”.

Who knew that one of my favorite birds is such a bad-ass? Similarly delightful “reveals” can be found in each account, many of them based on the authors’ own personal and scientific experiences with the birds.

Far from just being pretty to look at, the book’s incredible photos add real understanding of each species by showing them in a variety of plumages and situations. I enjoyed just quizzing myself on the photos as I made my way through the book, testing and expanding my knowledge as I went. I cannot imagine the effort Kevin T. Karlson and the book’s other photographers invested in creating what may be the world’s finest collection of shorebird photos.

Another thing I learned from The Shorebirds of North America is that the bills of oystercatchers are laterally compressed. You can’t tell this from the typical side view, but this compression turns the bills into excellent chisels for prying limpets, snails, and chitons off of rocks.

As delightful as the species accounts are, I strongly urge readers to read the entire first section straight through. In this section, the authors provide excellent perspective on all shorebirds including their remarkable adaptations, habits, diversity, and evolution. Fascinating anecdotes abound, such as the story of B-95, a banded Red Knot known to have traveled more than 400,000 miles during his 21-year lifetime. The authors don’t bother to hide their admiration for these birds:

“Challenged to design the perfect bird, we would without hesitancy delve into ranks of shorebirds and reach down to the Scolopacidae (sandpipers), the largest of the roughly six or seven family groups in the shorebird order Charadriiformes.”

Another fascinating fact I picked up from The Shorebirds of North America is that the curved bills of Long-billed Curlews are almost perfectly designed to snatch fiddler crabs from their long, curved burrows. They’re also great for picking off grasshoppers without alerting them to their imminent doom.

I could keep singing this book’s praises, but really, if you have even the tiniest, nascent interest in shorebirds, you should order a copy yourself. Given its length and full-color format, I expected the book to sell for at least fifty or sixty bucks, but at the time of this posting it can be had for a bargain $35. That puts it within reach of most people—and makes it an investment in your birding future you won’t regret.

One-Sentence Summary: A highly-readable, indispensable resource for both beginning and advanced shorebird enthusiasts.

Overall Rating (on a scale of cool birds): Piping Plover (highest)

You can order The Shorebirds of North America from your local independent bookstore, or directly from Princeton University Press. Please tell them we sent you!

(Except for the cover image, photos in this post are copyright Sneed B. Collard III. Review copy of The Shorebirds of North America provided by the publisher.)

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.