Tag Archives: fall migration

Parker River NWR and the 3 Ps of Birding

If it’s one thing we at FatherSonBirding hammer over and over again, it is the 3 Ps: Planning, Persistence, and Preparation.

Okay, actually, we have never talked much about this, but it’s a catchy concept, isn’t it? The 3 Ps, in fact, came very much into play recently when, after our rather disappointing birding in Boston, Braden and I headed up the coast to a place Braden had carefully researched (P Number 1) ahead of time: the Parker River National Wildlife Refuge.

One of the gems of the New England coast, Parker River NWR turned out to be our favorite birding spot of our week-long sojourn.

I had actually never heard of Parker River before, but Braden learned about it from some online birding buddies and checked it out to see if it was “visit-worthy”. His verdict? Definitely. Not only might we collect a handful of Life Birds there, the refuge protected one of his top ABA target birds: Saltmarsh Sparrow.

Now, I have to say that when we visit a National Wildlife Refuge, I generally expect a pretty low-key, rarely visited location. Imagine my surprise when we encountered a mini traffic jam waiting to get in. In fact, it became evident that the refuge served not only to protect wildlife, but as a critical outdoor outlet for congested coastal Massachusetts. Our visit started auspiciously with a stop at Lot 1, where we got a quick fly-over of a Baltimore Oriole—the only one we would see on our trip. Crossing the highway, we encountered an even cooler surprise: the closest looks we’d ever had of Semipalmated and Least Sandpipers! This was especially useful after the ID struggles we’d had with birds in eastern Washington only weeks before, and it really helped us examine the unique properties of each.

Having both Semipalmated (left) and Least Sandpipers right in front of us really helped Braden and me visually imprint these hard-to-ID species in our brains. Note especially the darker, browner overall appearance of the Least. Its yellow legs are a giveaway, too—but only when they aren’t covered in mud!

As we moved on, though, Braden felt pessimistic about seeing Saltmarsh Sparrows. He had Planned. He had Prepared himself with knowledge. But Boston had put an “unlucky” vibe in his head. As we made our second stop along the refuge’s main road, however, he suddenly shouted, “I see them!” Indeed, not thirty feet from us, at least four or five fairly nondescript little birds bumbled about in some tall marsh grass, seemingly not knowing what they were doing. “They seem like juveniles,” Braden surmised, and having studied this species quite a bit, he would know.

Saltmarsh Sparrows used to be lumped with Nelson’s Sparrows as one species, the Sharp-tailed Sparrow. As its own species, however, the Saltmarsh Sparrow occupies a narrow range of saltmarsh habitat along the East Coast and, in fact, requires this habitat for nesting. Because of this, it is at extreme risk from higher sea levels caused by climate change, and its population has been steadily declining. This makes protecting places like Parker River NWR even more important—and made us feel especially privileged to have such a close experience with them.

Our amazing experience with Saltmarsh Sparrows proved once again that persistence just may be the most important attribute of a successful birder.

Leaving the Saltmarsh Sparrows, we continued to hit other places in the refuge and were rewarded with a host of Year Birds, and two more Life Birds: Purple Finch and Great Crested Flycatcher—our number one ABA need to that point. Which all demonstrates the third P of birding: Persistence. Sure, luck plays a role, but just getting out there again and again will eventually take luck out of the equation, something we learned for the thousandth time at Parker River.

Click for a link to our largest Parker River checklist. Crazy migrating swallows!

Birding Boston

7 Replies

As some of you may have surmised, the recent spate of cooler, rainy weather put an end to my “Truck Birding” goal of 100 species, but I don’t hold a grudge. In fact, I have conjured up a new goal to replace it—breaking my all-time ABA Big Year Record of 336 species. More on that later.

In bigger news, I recently took Braden back to Orono, Maine to begin his college career at the University of Maine. As you can imagine, it was an emotional experience, but a good one. Because of COVID, we had not even had a chance to visit the campus so we decided to go a week early to explore the area, get him settled—and of course—bird our butts off. First up? A three-night stay in Boston to catch a Red Sox game (they won 6-0!) and see what kind of birding blessed Beantown.

We did not see a single bird during the Red Sox’s decisive victory over the Texas Rangers, but did get an up-close view of a home run by Xander Bogaerts as it sailed over the Green Monster. (Note: let’s see if MLB or the Sox forces me to take down this image. They are notorious about controlling baseball images.)

Our plans were stymied by heavy rain our first morning, so we tested ourselves against the stuffed bird specimens at the Boston Science Museum and managed to pick up Double-crested Cormorant, Herring Gull, and Great Black-backed Gull out the rain-drenched window on the Charles River. Afterward, we walked to Boston Common, hoping to find some great city birds. We were sadly disappointed. The problem? The world-famous downtown park has almost no understory layer—no bushes, hedges, and shrubs to offer cover to songbirds. As a result, Common Grackles, Canada Geese, starlings and other “trash birds” dominate. A progressive city such as Boston should fix this situation right away, don’t you think? With a lot of searching, we did manage to spot two Eastern Phoebes and coax in a couple of Black-capped Chickadees, but ended with only nine species, a dismal showing.

Our next morning also began badly. Thanks to our loyal FatherSonBirding reader, Roger Kohn, we bee-lined to Belle Isle Marsh, and were immediately driven back into the car by bloodthirsty waves of mosquitoes, forcing us to seek out a nearby drugstore for insect repellent. Upon our return, we still lost several pints of blood, but were able to chalk up 27 species. Alas, we missed our main target bird, Saltmarsh Sparrow, and saw nothing else to write home about. Feeling a little blue, we headed to our next destination, Deer Island.

Being an energy nut, I was interested in the how the giant sludge digesters (and windmills, only partly visible) at Deer Island produce energy for the rest of the plant. You can also see the bits of prairie habitat next to them above.

Deer Island is home to a fascinating wastewater treatment plant that serves 43 cities in the Boston area, and its giant egg-shaped sludge digesters have become famous and intriguing landmarks. We decided to embark on a three-mile circumnavigation of the treatment plant, especially hoping to glimpse some pelagic birds in the surrounding waters. We saw none, and not too much else very interesting for most of the walk. We did console ourselves by learning the differences between juvenile Herring and Black-backed Gulls, and Braden found me some Lifer Common Eiders floating offshore, but one of the most interesting things was that some great prairie habitat exists along the trail and we saw mating Monarch Butterflies and individual Black Swallowtails on our hike.

Having heard grim reports of Monarch Butterfly declines across the U.S., we were glad to find at least one or two individuals in almost every location we visited—including in the shadows of the Deer Island Wastewater Treatment Plant!

Finally, close to the end of our walk, two terrific birds showed themselves. One is a bird we especially hoped to see: our first ABA American Oystercatcher. We had seen one in the Galapagos in 2017, but never on U.S. shores! As we rounded a bend near a rock jetty, though, we were scanning dozens of Double-crested Cormorants when I caught the distinctive red-and-white flash of an AMOY. Even better, it soon flew over to forage on the pebbly beach below us!

This American Oystercatcher—the first we’d ever seen in the U.S.—garnered Boston Bird of the Day honors!

After enjoying the oystercatcher for a full ten minutes, we had just resumed walking when a large dark bird flashed by like an F-18. “Peregrine Falcon!” Braden shouted. We couldn’t believe it. We had hoped to see one there, but didn’t think it was possible. It provided a great testament to the value of conservation efforts and why we need to keep protecting nature. It also happened to be great timing to head to Belle Isle Seafood for lunch!

Our Deer Island checklist: https://ebird.org/checklist/S93492991

Up Next: Birding the New England Coast.

As always, please share this post—but not with Major League Baseball! Thank you!

100-Bird Challenge Update: Shorebirds and Songbirds

4 Replies

As you, our loyal readers, know, I (Sneed) have set a 100-species challenge for myself while undertaking my new temporary job driving truck for the Missoula Fire Cache (which vehemently regrets all association with me and will deny knowing me in any way if asked). As you’ll recall, 100 species may not sound like a lot, but in August—arguably one of the year’s worst birding months—and given the limitations of where I can go, it’s actually quite a lofty ambition pour moi. After all, my birding must be limited to what I can see while driving or during quick rest breaks just off my routes. As of two weeks ago (see Birding by 5-Ton Truck: a 100-Bird Quest), I had reached 59 species, but had picked off most of my easy targets and was desperately in need of large numbers of “watery” birds if I even dreamed of getting close to 100. It didn’t seem likely, but Lo! I have recently happened into some luck!

One happy circumstance is that I have been sent to several locations that take me by Warm Springs, one of Montana’s most famous birding locales. I can’t explore much of it during a quick break, but one nice pond sits just off the interstate offramp and I’ve been checking it out. The pond has yielded consistent Wilson’s Phalaropes, but also a few nice ducks such as Wood Ducks and Common Goldeneyes. On my last trip, though, I decided to forgo Warm Springs and instead try Racetrack Pond just up the road. The place often doesn’t yield a lot of birds, but at the far, northern end I pulled over and was delighted to find some suspicious wading birds—Greater Yellowlegs! Yeah! Then, a Black-necked Stilt flew in! Searching harder, I found more than twenty of this unreported species. Shorebird season has begun!

**I was totally delighted to find not only Greater Yellowlegs, but Black-necked Stilts at this seldom-birded pond near Warm Springs.**

This week, I ran a delivery to the Wenatchee (Washington) fire cache. Having scoured eBird ahead of time for possible quick bird stops, I pulled over at a place called Reardan Ponds north of Spokane. I quickly added Eared Grebes and American Coots to my 100-bird list, but was a bit underwhelmed by other birds. On a whim, I crossed the road to discover a little mudflat—and even better, some kind of shorebird in it! Unfortunately, it quickly scooted into the reeds before I could identify it. Argh!

**Patience can pay off, as this great look at a Solitary Sandpiper proved.**

I decided to give it five minutes, and to my delight a Solitary Sandpiper suddenly appeared in front of me—perhaps the best look ever I’ve had of these awesome birds. “But that’s not what I saw earlier, was it?” I asked myself. Then, I spotted not one, but two, small birds in the “peeps” category—small sandpipers of several different varieties. Peeps are very hard to ID, but these two gave me a nice long look, and even more important, some good photos. Later that night, I determined that they were Semipalmated Sandpipers! Not only a GREAT bird for my list, but a Year Bird to boot! However, still not sure of my ID, I posted a photo to the Montana Bird Discussioin Group and talked it over with Braden. Turns out, they weren’t Semis at all, but Least Sandpipers, with mud on their legs covering up their diagnostic yellow colors. I tell you, those peeps are tough, but I was still delighted with the discovery—and learned a lot to boot! UPDATE: So, this still isn’t 100% resolved. Another highly-respected MT birder makes some good points that the birds below are Semis after all! What do YOU think?

Peeps are notoriously difficult to ID, but thanks to some decent photos and help from other birders, I eventually determined that these were Least Sandpipers—or maybe not! Other experts are weighing in that my original ID of Semipalmated Sandpipers may be correct after all!

As a bonus, the next day, returning to Missoula, I added several new songbirds—a category I’d about given up on for my goal. At a little park in St. Regis, I not only got Cordilleran Flycatcher, but Red Crossbills, and a Red-eyed Vireo, a bird I hadn’t dared hope for. So where does that leave me? Well, as of today, I have reached exactly 80, count ‘em, EIGHTY species! Will I make it to 100? It’s still going to be tough. Not only am I running out of likely birds, I won’t be able to drive for the next couple of weeks, and the season may be over when I get back. Never fear, though, I will let you, our loyal readers, know of any further success! Keep on birding!

**Red-eyed Vireos have become one of our favorite songbirds, but seeing one takes some persistence and, it seems, the presence of cottonwood trees.**

Best Fall Warbler Flock Ever!

Banding, Bad Weather, and Old Friends

6 Replies

The sun was still asleep as the Collard minivan circled the roundabout, turning off on the road leading to MPG Ranch. Thirteen months ago, we had had our first banding experience with the University of Montana Bird Ecology Lab on Upper Miller Creek road, and now we were back for more—Erick Greene, a UM professor working with my dad on an article, had invited us to join the Ranch team. We pulled up to the gate, and soon enough the banders arrived. We followed them through the gate and onto MPG Ranch, a place neither my dad nor I had been in at least two years. A brand new sign pointed directions to familiar places, and we followed the truck towards the Orchard House, where Nick Ramsey and I had spent many days watching the feeder birds. We passed the Duck Mahal, a seasonally-flooded building, located adjacent to a slough that provided habitat for the first Bullock’s Orioles, Gray Catbirds, Wood Ducks and Red-naped Sapsucker I had ever seen.

**While we hoped that the wind would die down, UMBEL’s Mike Krzywicki gave us a tour of their MPG banding site. Just the week before, they’d caught a rare Gray Flycatcher here.**

**The research carried out at MPG Ranch grows more and more important as climate change worsens and we grapple with how to protect and restore fragile Western ecosystems.**

The vehicles parked in a lot north of the Duck Mahal, and from there we followed Mike, the lead bander, down into a shrubby riparian area. The rising sun brought with it constant gusts of wind, and the gray sky threatened us with rain.

“Well,” said Mike, “It looks like we won’t be banding for a while, so why not go birding?”

As we walked around the floodplain, we learned about what projects UMBEL and each of the individual banders and students were working on. The birds, for the most part, were completely hunkered down, and most of the songbirds we recorded as flyovers. One group of birds was out in full force, however; it was peak raptor migration.

Pairs of Red-tailed Hawks performed acrobatics in the sky as the wind sprinkled rain around us. A golden-bellied female Northern Harrier passed right in front of us as we scanned the brush for warblers, and several accipiters made close passes (including one that sat on a bare log that we puzzled over for several minutes).

**It is definitely raptor migration season as we are seeing large numbers of birds riding mountain ridges and, when we’re lucky, coming close to the ground.** **(Red-tailed Hawk)**

The weather did not lighten, and so, for the safety of the birds, the banding session closed before it opened. My dad and I, still thirsty for species, said our thanks and drove back across MPG’s windswept plain towards another old friend: Lee Metcalf National Wildlife Refuge.

What we discovered upon arriving at the main ponds by the Refuge visitor center is that the season of brown, unidentifiable ducks was wrapping up, and the open water produced great looks at breeding-plumaged American Wigeon, Northern Pintail and Gadwall alongside prehistoric white pelicans. We hadn’t seen this much waterfowl in a long time, yet, again, our eyes turned to the sky. Raptors continued to stream over the Bitterroot Valley, and we studied each Red-tailed carefully, hoping to spot a Broad-winged Hawk, a rare but regular migrant this time of year. No Broad-wingeds appeared, but rafts of Turkey Vultures did. On our way out of the refuge, we spotted yet another raptor, one we had just begun to get familiar with: a crisply-patterned Peregrine devouring a blackbird on a fencepost.

Most people still think of the Bitterroot Valley as relatively untrammeled. As this photo shows, the valley is filling up fast, and we need careful planning to protect the wildlife that all Montanans cherish. (American White Pelicans at Lee Metcalf NWR)

Next, my dad and I headed to Kootenai Creek Road—not the road leading to the trailhead, but the one I’d accidentally driven earlier this summer. Why? California Quail, an introduced resident of the Bitterroot Valley, had been abundant the last time I’d been here, and this was the first time my dad had gotten his butt down here to add them to his year list. Nabbing quail was a necessity. Thankfully, we spied a lone male on our way back down the road, adding another year bird to at least one of our lists after a two-week drought.

**Okay, we admit it. A lone California Quail isn’t likely to make the cover of “Hollywood Birds Tonight”, but when it’s a Year Bird? Heck ya, we’ll take it!**

Finally, we hit the Fort Missoula Gravel Quarry, a birding classic, before heading home. Upon entry, we were hit with a large flock of robins feeding on berries, and soon began pulling other species from the flock. Butterbutts (Yellow-rumped Warblers) flycaught above leaf-gleaning Orange-crowned Warblers, and we spotted a pair of Cassin’s Vireos, adorned in yellow vests and white eyeglasses. As we made our way towards the water, I heard a high, metallic “chip” coming from a bush behind us. After about a half hour of pishing, using playback and circling the bush multiple times, an adult “tan-striped” White-throated Sparrow popped into view for a second, adding another species to my dad’s year list (I’d found one at the Rocky Mountain Elk Foundation a few weeks prior). Like at MPG and Lee Metcalf, raptor silhouettes lined the horizon, and we continued scouring the sky for Broad-wingeds. Unfortunately, we didn’t find any, but there would be other days.

On the way home we hit another old favorite: Taco Bell. It had been a day of new experiences and old memories. We had no choice but to feel fulfilled.