Category Archives: Spring Migration

Quarrying Species: Birding Therapy Day Six

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Saturday, Day 6 of my Birding Therapy Week, I arrived at Fort Missoula at 7:45 a.m. with my daughter for the first of her two soccer games that day. While she warmed up with her team, I took Lola back over to the gravel quarry hoping to catch some magical morning birding. I didn’t have to wait long to kick off a great session. Even before leaving the soccer fields parking lot, my first Barn Swallow of the year flew past me, and once I reached my first stop at the northward quarry pond, I found myself struggling to keep up with all of the species I saw and heard. On the ponds themselves, I ID’ed eight species of ducks, Canada Geese, a Horned Grebe, and a Common Loon—perhaps the same one I’d seen two days before.

I had to play hide-and-seek with this loon even to get this poor shot, but I didn’t mind. Was just thrilled it stopped by the quarry on its way to its breeding grounds.

As I walked along the fence line, a sparrow popped up with a bold face pattern and pale “moustache”—the year’s first Vesper’s Sparrow! Nearby landed a Savannah Sparrow while a Western Meadowlark serenaded us. At the cliff edge above the river, Northern Roughed-Winged and Tree Swallows swarmed while a Red-tailed Hawk, Osprey, and Great Blue Heron sauntered by.

Meadowlarks always make me pause to ooh and ah, especially when they perch and sing in full view!

The hits kept on coming: two Red-naped Sapsuckers, a pair of Wood Ducks flushing from beside the river, a Yellow-rumped Warbler. As before, I made a special effort to find unusual sparrows. In one of our favorite spots, I located a couple of White-crowneds and then I saw something that really got my heart thumping: a bold bird with a peaked crown and distinct gray and brown facial lines. Even more exciting, I thought I detected a bit of yellow on the sides of the breasts—sure signs of a Lincoln’s Sparrow. Unfortunately, the bird was facing away from me and I was just moving in for a better look when two good-natured women walked up behind me and loudly shouted “Good morning!” I turned around and smiled, putting my finger to my lips, but it was too late. The sparrow fled.

Sigh.

Still, it was an amazing morning, with 36 species and delightful experiences. Even better, my daughter’s team won her soccer game. I’ll get you next time, Mr. Lincoln.

Here is my complete checklist: https://ebird.org/checklist/S86803129

I missed the Lincoln’s Sparrow, but was delighted to find my first Vesper’s Sparrow of the year. Braden got his first in a different location the very same day! Note that Vesper’s Sparrows are identified by their bold facial pattern including white eye ring and white “handlebar moustache” curving down and back from its bill. When they fly, look for the white outer tail feathers. Many also show an upside down “heart” on their breasts—though this one is “heartless.” Poor thing.

Heavy Metal Suckers: Birding Therapy Day Five

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After my inspiring outing with Paul Queneau on Thursday, believe it or not I had another “man date” the next day with our awesome former Scoutmaster, Tony Higuera. Tony and I would be meeting for coffee, not birds, so to continue my week of birding therapy I decided leave early and hit another great Missoula birding location close to Starbucks—Tower Street.

Honestly, I am still getting to know Tower Street. It consists of meadow, pine, and riparian habitats, and Braden and I have birded it four or five times, but heading in there Friday morning I really didn’t know what to expect. From the parking lot, I could hear flickers, House Finches, Pine Siskins, and Red-breasted Nuthatches. As I walked along the path paralleling the giant metallic power poles, I spotted and heard more of the usual suspects. Then, an incredibly loud metallic drumming sound startled me. “Holy cow!” I gasped. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

The source of the drum solo that startled me: a rocking Red-naped Sapsucker!

The drumming’s staggered, uncertain pattern told me which species had made it, but where was it coming from? More important, how could it be so loud? I looked up at the immense metal power pole a few yards away. I mean, this was not one of the street lamps you see. It was HUGE—an amplifier at least twenty meters high and a meter or two in diameter. I searched all around it but couldn’t find a bird. Then, I spotted an inconspicuous, hunched down figure on a climbing stud high above me. It was a Red-naped Sapsucker—and it had just found the best drum set in woodpecker history!

I watched as the bird again drummed against the power pole, and it immediately got a response from another Red-naped that flew in to investigate. I couldn’t help but laugh out loud and wondered if the bird would permanently stake out this amplified windfall.

Assuming this is the female, I wonder if she’s hear to consider the male’s mating proposition or just join his band—maybe on lead guitar?

During the next hour, I saw or heard another three or four sapsuckers and nothing else matched them, but when I reached the river, I heard a strange bubbly sound. At first I didn’t know what it was, but then recalled a song that Braden has been trying to teach me the last couple of years—the “giggle call” of a White-breasted Nuthatch. I didn’t see the bird at first, but then spotted it with its partner. Even more fun, I got to see the two of them mate. While WBNUs are by no means rare, we see them on only about 20% of our forest visits, so this was a real treat—and the only ones I would see during my Birding Therapy Week. That doesn’t mean my good birding was at an end. The next morning, in fact, I would experience my best birding—and therapy—of the week . . .

White-breasted Nuthatches are quite a bit less common than their Red-breasted brethren, but learning the “giggle call” certainly helps alert one to their presence.

Five Year Birds: Birding Therapy Day Four

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I especially looked forward to Day 4 of Birding Therapy Week because I would get to take a hike with one of my favorite Missoula people, Paul Queneau. As fellow Assistant Scoutmasters, Paul and I have shared a number of adventures including helping lead Scouts for week-long trips down the Missouri River and to Glacier National Park. Paul is an outstanding photographer, writer, and naturalist, so we always have a lot to share when we get together.

Though one of the last Montana warblers we learned, Nashvilles have quickly become one of Braden’s and my favorites.

Before meeting up with Paul Thursday morning, however, I wanted to make a quick stop at the base of Mount Jumbo because Braden had spotted his first Nashville Warbler of the year there the day before. The shining sun bode well as I hiked up a short little trail to a brushy area that often holds an assortment of great spring songbirds. In no time, I heard the calls of a Spotted Towhee and a Western Meadowlark. I also detected a song that I thought might be the Nashville and . . . it was! Nashville Warblers are one of my favorite spring Montana birds and this little guy just put a huge smile on my face. As a bonus, I scored two more Year Birds I didn’t expect: Calliope Hummingbird and Vaux’s Swift!

It’s a swallow . . . It’s a starling . . . No, it’s a Vaux’s Swift! Though easy to mistake for swallows, swifts have more rapid, stiffer wing beats and, to my mind, a more classic scythe or boomerang flying profile. As you can tell, I have never managed a good flight photo of one!

Flush with three Year Birds, I picked up Paul and he directed me to a new trail I’d never been on out near the Canyon River Golf Club in East Missoula. Though more of a mammal man, Paul has been staking out the site to photograph hummingbirds and Spotted Sandpipers. We headed down along the river hearing multiple Spotted Towhees and Song Sparrows, but didn’t see any Spotted Sandpipers. Then, a bird flew in and landed right next to the water. I assumed it was a sandpiper, but focusing in I found myself staring at an American Pipit—a total surprise for this time of year and location, at least for me. American Pipits breed in alpine and Arctic habitats, and can be found at lower elevations/latitudes during migration, but Braden and I had never seen them along a river like this. Best of all, it was another Year Bird pour moi—and not the last.

Though American Pipits are reported around Missoula this time of year, the appearance of this one right on the Clark Fork River was a delightful surprise.

As Paul and I kept walking, pleasantly chatting about birds, writing, photography, and more, we saw a sparrow fly into a bush. We’d been hearing a lot of Song Sparrows singing and thought it might be one. Closer inspection revealed yellow above the eye—a sure giveaway for Savannah Sparrow, and Year Bird Number 5 for the day! All too soon, we had to turn around so we could get back to work, but it was an exhilarating morning, and I knew I would return to this spot again and again—hopefully with both Paul and Braden.

Soccer Ball Birding: Birding Therapy Week Day Three

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Day 3 of Birding Week Therapy proved an easy task thanks to my daughter’s regular Wednesday night soccer practice out at Fort Missoula—a location that happens to sit next to what may be Missoula’s best birding location, affectionately known as “the gravel quarry.” Over the past years, Braden and I have birded the quarry dozens of times and counted about 130 different species there, including a number of rarities such as Long-tailed Duck, Pacific Loon, and Eurasian Wigeon that swing by during spring and fall migrations. This time of year, I was especially keen on finding some cool sparrows, which can also drop in for a week or two at a time. I would have preferred a morning visit, but birders can’t always be choosers, so after dropping my daughter off, our dog Lola and I set off to see what we could find.

The late-season Merlin was a real treat, especially watching it in action hunting another bird!

Few ducks graced the pond and they were too far away to ID without a scope, so we hurried on to the river to look for sparrows. Alas, the action proved pretty slow, but as I was peering into one of my favorite sparrow spots, two larger birds dived into a patch of tansy. One flew off again before I could ID it, but the other extricated itself and perched on a nearby tree. Its behavior led me to believe it was a Sharp-tailed Hawk, but on closer inspection I saw that it was a Merlin! And quite late in the year for the location! I took my time studying it since I often have difficulty identifying these in the field.

Cooper’s Hawks are common at the quarry, but I wondered if this was a resident or just passing through.

Minutes later I saw another raptor circling and just assumed it was the Merlin, but no, it proved to be a Cooper’s Hawk! Braden later reminded me that raptor migration was in full swing so both sightings made sense, along with the lone Turkey Vulture I saw in the distance.

I never tire of watching Sandhill Cranes and it seems we’ve been finding them at this location more consistently the past couple of years.

Soon, I heard weird guttural calls that I have come to love—Sandhill Cranes. Three of them caught the gorgeous evening light and I am guessing they breed nearby since they’ve become a common sight out there. Alas, songbirds proved scarce but on our way back to the car, Lola and I finally dissected a White-crowned Sparrow from some brush. I’d had bigger days at the quarry—and better photos, too—but also much worse days. I knew, though, that I’d be returning for Day 6 of Birding Therapy Week—and in the morning!   

A Week of Birding Therapy: Day One

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I know it’s hard to believe but even underpaid writers living in Montana can get to feeling down sometimes. Covid certainly has not helped the situation since it and the gut-wrenching economic and societal upheavals it has triggered make the future look blurry at best. In this kind of situation, however, birders have a distinct advantage over non-birders. Why? Because we can immediately step outside for a dose of birding therapy. Last weekend, in fact, I decided I needed not one day, but a week of birding to try to set things right. I began with a return to a place that in many ways inspired my and Braden’s journey into birding: the Blue Mountain Nature Trail just south of Missoula.

It’s always a good day when you see shooting stars in the wild. We tried planting them in our garden when we moved in 15 years ago and the deer loved them. Only one highly-protected plant survives!

The nature trail takes hikers through a twenty-year-old burn that in years past has been a birders’ paradise with plenty of snags for woodpeckers and a lush resurgence of native plant growth on the newly-sunlit forest floor. The trail, in fact, is where UM biologist Dick Hutto—an expert on the value of burns to birds—took me when I began researching my book Fire Birds: Valuing Natural Wildfires and Burned Forests. At the time, Black-backed Woodpeckers still lived there, but I wondered what it would be like some eight years later. I was not disappointed.

Though the Black-backed Woodpeckers have long departed for blacker pastures, Northern Flickers still take full advantage of the burned forest twenty years after the blaze.

Though I arrived a week or two early for the crush of cavity nesters about to descend on the forest, seeing my first shooting stars and Pasque flowers of the year immediately cheered me up. And the birds, while not abundant, were of the highest quality. On my way up I saw a pair of Townsend’s Solitaires, and heard Cassin’s Finches and my year’s first Williamson’s Sapsucker, which I IDed both by its higher, forest-edge location and its almost halting, hesitant drum pattern. Moving on, I spent time with a Hairy Woodpecker and Northern Flicker, and at the forested saddle where I usually turn around, spotted my year’s first Cooper’s Hawk flying furtively and low to the ground.

Townsend’s Solitaires are hands-down one of our favorite Montana passerines and nest in the root balls of fallen trees. This makes them perfect burn birds.

I had hoped to hear an Orange-crowned Warbler, but alas, was probably a bit too early for those. Back near the road, however, I was rewarded by Red Crossbills and the year’s first look at a dazzling male Yellow-rumped Warbler. Satisfied with my thirteen species, I continued on to the car, planning my next day’s trip to the Missoula Cemetery to see what I could find. Unbeknownst to me, fate was about to deal Braden and me a radically different birding destination for Tuesday . . .