Category Archives: Warblers

Crossbill Sunday: the Final Day of Birding Therapy Week

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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.

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 . . .

Birds and Books

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As always, we’d be delighted if you share this post with anyone you think might be interested.

Waiting for a Warbler (Tilbury House, 2021) is my first illustrated picture book in more than a decade. It tells the charming stories of a migrating Cerulean Warbler, and a family that has been improving its backyard habitat for birds. You can order it now by clicking on the image or, better yet, placing a call to your local independent bookstore.

As a writer, birding gives me much more than inspiration. It has granted me a second lease on my career. When Braden and I dived into birding, it was the heart of the Great Recession and, like now, publishers were buying zilch. I was trying different things with mixed results, but felt more or less directionless. Birding changed all that. The more we saw and learned about birds, the more ideas I had to write—ideas that have resulted in adult books and magazine articles, and in my children’s books Fire Birds; Woodpeckers: Drilling Holes & Bagging Bugs; and Birds of Every Color. My newest title, Waiting for a Warbler, has a special history I’d like to share.

  • Woodpeckers: Drilling Holes and Bagging Bugs by Sneed B. Collard III (Bucking Horse Books, 2018)
  • “What makes this big-year book different is the father-son bonding element . . . the picture of a teenager that emerges has the ring of truth. A proficient storyteller, Collard writes with style about their travels together . . .” —Kirkus Reviews
Just a few of the writing projects that Braden’s and my plunge into birding have inspired!

The idea to write about warbler migration blossomed in my brain only days after Braden and I visited High Island, Texas during our 2016 Big Year of birding. High Island is what’s called a migrant trap. The shelter and food it provides lures thousands of exhausted, migrating songbirds as they complete their marathon eighteen-hour flights across the Gulf of Mexico. We spent only a day at High Island, but during that time observed more than a dozen kinds of warblers along with tanagers, thrushes, vireos, and many other songbirds, and I was so inspired I quickly wrote down a story and sent it to a publisher who had expressed interest. I heard . . . nothing. No call. No feedback. No offer.

I let the idea sit for a year or so—often a useful thing to do to get perspective on a manuscript—and took another look at it. I realized it read a little stiff and impersonal, and decided to recast it as the story of one individual warbler crossing the Gulf of Mexico. I sent it to a different publisher, who wrote back within a month or two and said that he liked it, but what about working in the idea of a family waiting for the warbler to arrive? It was a great suggestion and I quickly revised the story and sent it off. Two years later, the book has been published!

Just a few of the birds we saw during our eye-opening visit to High Island in 2016. From Left to Right, Little Blue Heron, Black-throated Green Warbler, and the most cooperative Rose-breasted Grosbeak in the history of birding!

The book recounts the epic, dangerous journey of a male Cerulean Warbler that runs headlong into a storm halfway across the Gulf of Mexico, but it also focuses on a family that has been working hard to improve its backyard habitat for birds and other wildlife. The two children had glimpsed a Cerulean Warbler the year before, but the bird had not stayed, and they hope to see the bird again this year. I will leave the rest to your imagination—or, better yet, until you read the story for yourselves—but I have to say that I am extremely proud of this book both because of the adventure it shares and the positive role models it offers. The delightful illustrations by Thomas Brooks help make Waiting for a Warbler both a perfect read-aloud and a useful resource for a family or class-room conservation project. Braden and I hope that you all enjoy it, and would be grateful if you share this post with friends, teachers, and others. Bird—and write—on!