Category Archives: Winter Birding

Nick the Owl Finder Strikes Again!

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When you’re a birder, nothing ever goes according to plan. For example, if you slog through a draw to find a Long-eared Owl, you’re more likely to see a flock of Bohemian Waxwings, or your state’s first record of a Red-flanked Bluetail, or a moose, or anything that is not a Long-eared Owl.

The plan on Sunday, February 10^th was to sleep in. Instead, my dad shook me awake at seven in the morning (which I guess is technically sleeping in, but still).

“Nick found a Great Gray and a Barred at Maclay Flats! We have to go!”

Only an owl can get me out of bed early on a weekend!

I groaned and rolled out of bed, and within minutes we rumbled down the road in my dad’s Forerunner, dodging the potholes who tried to swallow us. The plan was to go the speed limit, but as I said earlier, things never go according to plan.

We reached Maclay in record time, and I texted Nick, asking for details. He responded quickly, providing great photos of both owls, and we trekked through the snow-blanketed forest, accompanied only by the occasional chirps of Red Crossbills flying over. As we passed the fields where we had spotted the Northern Pygmy-Owls two years prior, we scanned the bare trees. Nothing.

Then we hit the huge field in the center of Maclay, where Nick had said the Great Gray was hunting. We followed a trail of footsteps around the edge of it, running into another man that my dad knew, and we asked him if he’d had any luck.

When owls prove hard to find, Red-breasted Nuthatches provide entertaining diversion.

“None yet—but I’ve seen owls here before.”

“You heard about the Great Gray and the Barred here, though, right?”

“What? No, I just came out here today.”

Soon, we spotted two other birders on the edge of the field ahead of us, pointing cameras at the top of a Ponderosa.

“That’s a good sign,” said my dad.

We quickened our pace towards them, and I suddenly glanced up to see something I hadn’t seen in four years: a Great Gray Owl. The magnificent predator of the night’s eyes glowed with yellow fire, staring down at all of the peasants who had dared enter its domain. It wasn’t quite as large as I remembered, but then again it perched high on a pine bough.

Politicians spend a lifetime trying to master a Great Gray Owl’s stare!

As we snapped hundreds of photos, Nick suddenly joined us, accompanied by his stepmom and his dad, Phil.

“Nick!” I said, “How do you manage to find all these owls!?”

“Well, we came out looking for the Great Gray and just walked past the tree that the Barred was in. Do you want to see it?”

“Sure!”

Re-locating the Barred proved easier said than done. Nick had discovered the Barred in a spruce, but we trudged through deep snow, unable to find it. After half an hour, Nick finally stopped and pointed into the shaded interior of a tree. The Barred was smaller than the Great Gray, and much less active, as if trying to merge with its dark surroundings. After spending more time watching both owls, we returned to the car, tired, cold and fulfilled. Things definitely hadn’t gone according to plan!

“Just let me sleep!” this Barred was probably thinking, but he didn’t budge from his cozy roost.

San Antonio Botanic Garden: Messier is Betterer

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As I recounted last week, I had the recent good fortune to speak at the TCTELA conference in San Antonio. Additional good fortune? My flight home didn’t leave until Monday evening, leaving an entire day to bird. My initial plan was to visit the Mitchell Lake Audubon Center, but naturally the center is closed on Mondays, so I instead opted for the San Antonio Botanical Garden.

Hard to get tired of Inca Doves, especially when they never come close to Montana!

Taking my very first Uber ride (worked like a charm), I arrived almost at opening time and proceeded to feel my way through the garden’s 38 acres. The birds were active and I immediately found Northern Mockingbirds, American Goldfinches, Northern Cardinals, and the especially raucous Blue Jays among other common species. My main targets of the day were Ladder-backed and Golden-fronted Woodpeckers, as they’d both shown up on recent eBird checklists, but neither those nor other extraordinary species showed themselves. . . that is, until I wandered into a small, unkempt part of the grounds near the back.

I was delighted to find this guy trying to stay undercover in the Garden’s “messier” reaches!

With my hearing aids in, I detected the regular contact chip of what I guessed was some kind of warbler and, sure enough, I soon spotted a Yellow-rumped. I also saw another tiny bird dive into a bush, but failed to get a good look. “Just stand for a minute and be patient,” I told myself. Sure enough, the mystery bird flew into a closer bush and, even better, I got my binocs focused on it. I didn’t recognize the markings at first, except that I knew it was not a warbler. Then, I saw the distinct pale eye of a White-eyed Vireo. Whoo-hoo! And if that wasn’t enough, moments later, I spotted the furtive brown figure of a Long-billed Thrasher! Now, we were gettin’ somewhere!

Exploring more, I discovered Inca Doves, Red-shouldered Hawks, and Black Vultures, but after a lunch break, bird activity took a nosedive along with my birding enthusiasm. Before summoning another Uber, however, I decided to return to the same unkempt spot as before. Jackpot! There, I picked up more Yellow-rumpeds, an Orange-crowned Warbler, and a Blue-gray Gnatcatcher. But who was making those annoying cheeps, sometimes punctuated by a loud rising and falling call”? I followed the sounds for more than ten minutes. Finally, I spotted a gray bird with brownish wings and a vivid mustard breast on a branch.

The distinctive call of “Beer!” finally led me to this stunning Couch’s Kingbird.

Right away, I knew it was a king bird, but which kind? A quick look at the eBird checklist pointed to Couch’s Kingbird, which I confirmed by listening to its “Beer!” call on my phone.

I left the garden without my coveted woodpeckers, but feeling pretty good about the birds I’d been able to find. The day also reinforced a lesson for botanical gardens and yards alike: for birds, messier is betterer!

Winter Birding in Atlanta’s Surprising Piedmont Park

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When we were invited to my brother’s wedding in Atlanta, Braden and I immediately began wondering which birds we might encounter in the “Dogwood City” in mid-January. Our first morning there, we determined to find out by taking a loop around Piedmont Park in the company of our good friend—and famous “Hidden Figures” movie extra—Erica Brown. Almost immediately, the birds came out to meet us!

Sneed and Braden trying to track down a Carolina Wren in some brush at Piedmont Park. (Photo by Erica Brown)

Making a loop to the north from the parking lot, we soon found common hoped-for Northern Cardinals, Blue Jays, and Carolina Chickadees, but then surprised a gorgeous Red-shouldered Hawk lurking along the stream bed. The birds only got better from there.

This Red-shouldered was a real delight—and proof that a thriving bird community can exist in the heart of an urban environment. (Photo by Braden Collard)

Continuing north, we picked up Tufted Titmouse, Ruby-crowned Kinglets, Carolina Wrens, Eastern Phoebes, and to my delight, a Golden-crowned Kinglet, which I was especially glad to see because my crummy hearing doesn’t allow me to find these by sound. Looping back on the far side of the park, I began wondering where the woodpeckers might be when I spotted a small candidate in a tree. “There’s a Downy,” I pointed to Braden. “I see it,” he said, “but that’s not a Downy. It’s a Yellow-bellied Sapsucker!” “Huh?” Turns out, we’d been looking at different birds!

We never get tired of watching phoebes—especially one that we rarely get to see, the Eastern Phoebe. (Photo by Braden Collard)

Our real jackpot turned out to be a large, muddy puddle next to some dead grasses. There, we picked up Swamp, Chipping, Song, and White-throated Sparrows, Eastern Towhees, and my favorite, a pair of Brown Thrashers. All told, we bagged 28 species, far exceeding our wintry expectations. Better yet, Braden scored three Lifers: Eastern Towhee, Swamp Sparrow, and Yellow-bellied Sapsucker!

This Eastern Towhee proved a Lifer for both of us! (Photo by Braden Collard)

As a bonus, that night, we got to visit with the wonderful folks of Atlanta Audubon at my book signing with A Cappella Books, held at Brickworks Gallery. What a fun group! The welcoming people—and welcoming birds—left only one burning question: what could “Hot’lanta” possibly be like during spring migration? One day, we hope to find out!

Next Post: another urban birding report from my upcoming trip to San Antonio for the TCTELA Conference.

Need Winter Birds? Go Skiing!

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At 6:50 a.m. on January 4, my family awoke and piled into our minivan, looking forward to the white slopes of Discovery Ski Resort near Philipsburg. After picking up my friend Eli, we took off, driving southeast towards the resort and Georgetown Lake, which coincidentally abounded with rare and spectacular birds in winter. During the CBC the week before, Gary Swant informed us that he had spotted both Great Gray Owls and Boreal Owls in the area. So, of course, before we quite arrived at Discovery, we took a short drive along a logging road running through the pine forest above the frozen lake.

Five minutes in, my dad saw birds perched on the road ahead of us, and hit the brakes. We guessed they had to be something interesting. The first two, which turned out to be Mountain Chickadees, flew away as soon as I got out of the car, but the third, a bigger passerine with a heftier beak stayed and allowed us good looks—it was a Pine Grosbeak! In the past week we had ticked off countless nemesis birds (including a Merlin in downtown Missoula on the 3^rd) and this bird proved no exception!

We arrived at Discovery, where no line awaited us, and proceeded to tackle the slopes. The fact that we lived in Montana did not mean we excelled at skiing, so we mostly stuck to the green circle (easy) and blue square (intermediate) runs, though Eli, Tessa and I did try out a very short black diamond (advanced).

At about one o’ clock, we scarfed down a quick lunch, then ran outside equipped with my camera, binoculars, lunch rolls and a bag of birdseed. Two years ago, we learned that the birds around the ski area took full nutritional advantage of their human visitors, and that the resident Mountain Chickadees actually had been trained to feed out of people’s hands! We cast bits of bread on the ground, then took turns holding birdseed out towards the stands of trees around the parking lot. Sure enough, the birds found us, and we each got to feel the tiny, reptilian-esque feet of the chickadees as they alighted on our fingers and snatched up sunflower seeds.

Nothing helps one understand the nature of “being bird” quite like having a Mountain Chickadee land on your fingertips!

Meanwhile, Gray Jays (now known as Canada Jays), Clark’s Nutcrackers and Steller’s Jays pounced on the rolls we purchased from the lodge, the braver ones landing within a meter of our feet. To top that off, we even discovered a big flock of Pine Grosbeaks flying around above us, the males’ robin-like songs weaving through the air.

Alas, this trip prioritized skiing over birding, so we had to leave the feeding fest behind. After racing down a few more runs, we packed up and drove home, with great photos and a new Life Bird under our belts, and more importantly, an unforgettable memory.

We tried to feed these guys some legitimate bird food, but the ski area corvids—including this Clark’s Nutcracker—had developed a fondness for Discovery’s baked goods.

For Birders, Every Year is a Big Year

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At 8:00 a.m. we pulled into the parking lot of the now-defunct Uncle Buck’s Bar in Warm Springs, Montana. The mercury read -4 degrees and we’d just braved 100 miles of icy highway to get here, but we couldn’t be more excited. Why? Because in addition to this being our third and final Christmas Bird Count of the season, it was January 1—the date when Year Counts are reset to zero and all birders begin their lives anew.

How often do Bald Eagles almost outnumber cows? It’s a scene you won’t find in just any part of the country.

We were not alone in our enthusiasm. In addition to Braden, our birding friend Nick Ramsey, and myself, at least twenty other birders stood around sipping coffee and stomping their feet. We turned out in great part because of Gary Swant, a Montana birding legend who led our Christmas Bird Count in Deer Lodge twelve days earlier. Warm Springs was Gary’s main turf as he did bird counts here for a living, monitoring species in the wake of the vast superfund cleanup conducted around the Butte-Anaconda mining complex. What’s more, today Braden, Nick, and I hit the jackpot. After assigning sectors to other bird counters, Gary turned to us and said, “Why don’t you three ride with me?”

I can’t tell you exactly where Gary drove us or I would have to kill you, but suffice it to say that we had a very special day. We drove around a number of ponds used to settle out and inactivate toxic waste from Silver Bow Creek before it helps form the Clark Fork River. Most of the ponds had frozen over so we weren’t sure what we might see, but right away we scored two terrific birds.

“There’s a Townsend’s Solitaire,” Braden called out.

Gary took a look at the bird, perched above a stream. “I think that might be a Northern Shrike,” he said. Just then, the bird moved its head into a better position and we could all see the shrike’s distinct markings.

Our intrepid CBC leader, Gary Swant, tallies species after an exhilarating Christmas Bird Count.

Not ten minutes later, as we got out of the car for a brief stretch, a large fast raptor flew over.

“Northern Goshawk!” Nick, Braden, and Gary all shouted together.

SCORE! Three days after getting our Lifer Northern Goshawk at Maclay Flats, Braden and I got a great look at a second one—and in a brand new year!

For the next couple of hours, we racked up twenty other great species including Trumpeter Swans, Common and Barrow’s Goldeneyes, Rough-legged Hawks, and even some American Tree Sparrows.

After the count, the groups converged on the Anaconda Pizza Hut for debriefing. Our collective total came to 49 species and 4498 individual birds—not bad for winter in cold, wind-swept Montana. Nick, Braden, Gary, and I had landed 22 species, a great start to our 2019 Year Lists.

But our day was far from over.

Find the Snow Bunting! Not easy when you’ve got hundreds of Horned Larks to contend with, but there’s one in there!

Following a tip from one of the groups, five carloads of us headed out to a road just north of Warm Springs and we did NOT regret it. Soon, we came upon a flock of at least 600 Horned Larks feeding in a pasture. Our group broke out half a dozen spotting scopes hoping to find two other species among the larks. It wasn’t long before the calls came.

“I’ve got Snow Buntings!”

“I’ve got a Lapland Longspur!”

Our pulses raced and didn’t slow until we’d seen the birds ourselves. It took about ten minutes, but finally, I spotted the distinctive birds. Braden and I high-fived each other. Snow Buntings had been dogging us for the past five years and to add them and Lapland Longspurs to our Life Lists on the very same day felt like vindication. And if that wasn’t enough, just then, two Prairie Falcons swooped in to harrass the giant flock. Yet another Year Bird!

We climbed back into the minivan and began the drive back to Missoula feeling both exhausted and exhilarated. We hadn’t set out to do a Big Year in 2019, but we realized something: For birders, every year is a Big Year.