Tag Archives: fall migration

Banding, Bad Weather, and Old Friends

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.

Smokin’ Birds

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As always, we appreciate you sharing this page, and hope that all of you are staying healthy and sane during these difficult times!

Very Unhealthy. That’s what Missoula’s air quality had been pegged at for the last five days, thanks to smoke from the catastrophic fires raging across the West. Braden and I were supposed to stay indoors, but faced a huge problem: fall migration, when waves of birds were traversing the state. Birds we could only see now. What to do? Simple. Go birding.

Unlike our past few outings, we decided to stick to the Missoula Valley, and began by heading out to Frenchtown to see if we might catch a rare Sabine’s Gull or Greater White-fronted Goose. We arrived at our intended water-filled gravel pit and what did we see? Exactly one American Coot on the water. Then, we spotted some action in a few sad-looking invasive trees along the road. We sauntered over to discover a delightful assortment of American Goldfinches, Yellow-rumped Warblers, and Lincoln’s Sparrows, along with a surprise Red-naped Sapsucker, a species we thought would be long gone by now. A duet of American Pipits flying overhead capped off our visit.

**Even though Yellow-rumped Warblers are our most common Montana warblers, it’s so much fun to see them moving through in big fall groups.**

After an uneventful stop at the Frenchtown Slough, we headed to our main destination, Mocassin Lane. This road is always hit and miss for us, but in previous years runoff irrigation has created muddy pools that sometimes attracted shorebirds. Since we’d had fairly dismal luck in our last few outings, we harbored no real expectations, but we hit the jackpot! Setting up our spotting scope, we identified a surprising assortment of ducks, and then focused in on our real treasure: shorebirds. “There’s a ton of Wilson’s Snipe out there,” Braden said, scanning slowly. “Oh, wait. I’ve got a Pectoral Sandpiper!” In fact, there wasn’t just one, but 17—the most we’d ever seen at one time. It was also the most snipe—13—we’d ever seen in one place. Other delights included a lone Red-necked Phalarope and more than twenty pipits. It was a great chance to study birds we rarely came in contact with, and we spent a good hour enjoying them.

**How many shorebirds do you see? This photo perfectly encapsulates how challenging it is to detect, observe, and identify species. See what you come up with—answer at the end of the post!**

https://ebird.org/checklist/S73744019

**Our outing yesterday was by far our best look ever at Pectoral Sandpipers. The striped breast and yellow legs are distinguishing marks for these handsome birds.**

After our big shorebird score, we thought we’d exhausted the day’s luck, but at Council Grove State Park we again landed amid a great assortment of birds including the Nuthatch Trifecta (Pygmy, White-Breasted, and Red-breasted), another Lincoln’s Sparrow, and a late-season Spotted Towhee. The highlight? A Merlin and American Kestrel perched face-to-face on a bare branch. We couldn’t tell if they were trying to make friends or face off like Clint Eastwood and Lee Van Cleef in a spaghetti western. Either way, it was a great cap to a great day that netted us 55 species, firmly sending us into record territory for September birding. Meanwhile, our Montana Big Year totals now stand at 256 species for me and a whopping 263 for Braden. Take that, fire smoke!

**Falcon Stand-off: “A bird with a rifle will win over a bird with a pistol any time.”**

Shorebird Answer: Well, I count at least nine shorebirds in this photo including at least four Pectoral Sandpipers, one Killdeer, and four Wilson’s Snipe—with a couple American Pipits thrown in for good measure!

The Ohio of the West

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Ever since learning about it, my dad and I have always wanted to attend the self-proclaimed “Biggest Week in American Birding” at the Black Swamp Observatory in Northwestern Ohio. This festival, set in the “Warbler Capital of the World” in mid-May, may be among the largest in the United States and even the world! In recent years up to 70,000 birders have attended the festival, funding (well, almost) the entire Midwestern economy for months on end. The reason that so many birders flock to this out-of-the-way state this time of year is the same reason we drive out to Freezeout Lake every March: spring migration. Instead of Snow Geese, though, the Black Swamp Observatory’s main attraction is passerines; specifically, warblers. Rivaling the giants of Central Park and High Island,Texas, thirty-warbler days are not uncommon.

**Flocks of Western Tanagers have been a delightful sight the past couple of weeks, both in Missoula and Helena—and have allowed us plenty of practice with our ID skills.**

Unfortunately, thanks to a strike by the BWWLU (Blue-winged Warbler Labor Union), the festival shut down this year (oh, and perhaps COVID-19 played a role?), and our chances of getting a slot next year before I graduate are fairly slim, so it looked like we’d have to find the warblers in our own state instead. This May, we scored Tennessee and Blackpoll Warblers in the east, but recently we were given a second chance to snag rare Eastern warblers: the less well-known but possibly more productive month of September. The first two weeks of September in Montana may be the best time for songbird migration statewide, with Westby delivering large numbers of Magnolia, Mourning and other, rarer warblers to those who make the drive. Across the rest of the state, we can always depend on a few wandering warblers to show up, and this year has been no exception.

A few days ago, my dad and I woke up at 6, planning to drive up the Ninepipe valley to look for shorebirds and some reported Mew Gulls. On our way out of the house, though, a Montana Rare Bird Alert email changed our minds—a place called “Nature Park” in Helena had reported Chestnut-sided and Black-and-White Warblers the day before. Soon, we found ourselves driving to Helena for the second time in two weeks.

**Northern Waterthrushes are notoriously difficult to catch out in the open, but this one obviously wanted to show off for the Helena birding crowd!**

We pulled into the parking lot of the uniquely-named Nature Park, and almost immediately spotted some migrants: the White-crowned Sparrows and Wilson’s Warblers that Montana fall migration was known for. After scouring the trees and bushes for anything rare for 100 meters, we found a wet impression filled to the brim with members of Helena Audubon, including a few people and names we recognized: Sharon Dewart-Hansen, Kyle Strode, and Pat Grantham. Wilson’s Warblers coated the shrubs, and we picked out American Redstart, MacGillivray’s, Yellow-rumped, and Orange-crowned Warbler, Northern Waterthrush and Cassin’s Vireo among the splendid mixed flock. After talking birds for a while with the other birders (both rare warblers had departed), we headed to Warm Springs and then home, energized by the experience.

**Breakfast anyone? Several American Redstarts were putting on a show, and it’s always amazing just how much food they can find!**

Today, we were given another opportunity for an Eastern warbler closer to home. I had just sat down for the evening to work on my Calculus homework when Nick Ramsey, who had recently started school in Louisiana, called me.

“Cole Wolf just reported a Blackpoll Warbler in Greenough Park, you should check it out!”

“I’m on it,” I said, swatting my Calculus homework aside like an annoying younger sibling.

I hopped in the Forerunner and was at the Northeast corner of the park before even Cole had been given the chance to drop his dogs off.

“You got here quick,” he said, and we quickly found the bird again high in a Ponderosa. I snapped some decent photos before it disappeared. Upon showing the photos to Cole, he squinted.

“That actually looks more like a Bay-breasted,” he said, showing me the fall-plumaged Bay-breasted on the Sibley app on his phone.

Not being Eastern birders, my dad and I have never experienced the difficult identification of Blackpoll vs. Bay-breasted Warblers in fall migration. As more birders began to arrive in search of the rarity, I picked up some ID tips from each of them on distinguishing between the two similar plumages.

After about forty minutes, half a dozen more birders had arrived, but the warbler had not shown itself. Other birds kept us entertained for a while, primarily a Merlin snacking on a siskin and a particularly tame Pileated Woodpecker, but the passerine pickings were slim. I headed back towards the bridge at the top of the park, ready to head home, when I glimpsed a dull yellow bird with obvious wingbars in a bush next to me.

“I’ve got it!” I said, waving the rest of the birders over. While they watched it hop between cottonwoods and mountain ashes, I called my dad.

“You need to get down here!”

**Though perhaps a little drab to other birders, this rare Bay-breasted Warbler was a thing of beauty to the Western Montana birding crew!**

He arrived just as the last of the birders headed out, and we continued searching the areas where I had seen it. The day grew dark, however, and most of the birds that had been active earlier had disappeared. Nick, meanwhile confirmed via text that the consensus on the bird on the Montana Birding Facebook page was that it was a Bay-breasted, based on buffy undertail coverts, faded spectacles, and black legs. This was definitely rarer than a Blackpoll, which would have been a treat by itself!

I couldn’t refind the bird for my dad, so we headed back to the cars. In the trees next to the street, though, I could hear chickadees, and I held up my binoculars, hoping for another mixed flock. A Warbling Vireo passed through my vision, and my hopes began to rise—there had been a WAVI with the warbler last time we had seen it! Sure enough, the tiny yellowish warbler hopped into view again, alongside several Western Tanagers, and my dad got great looks! Maybe we didn’t need to travel to Ohio to find Eastern warblers after all.

Fighting Our Way into Fall Migration!

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Spring migration traditionally sparks furious activity by both birds and birders. If you want to see a ton of species, you’d better hit spring migration—and hit it hard. Fall migration, on the other hand, is often pretty much ignored. At least Braden and I ignored it until the last couple of years. Then we discovered that we’d better get our tail feathers out there in fall if we want to see some key species—especially shorebirds.

You wouldn’t think that Montana would be a great place for shorebirds. After all, shorebirds like, well, ocean shores, don’t they? Sure, but a surprising number of shorebird species pass through Montana every fall on their way to their wintering grounds. That doesn’t mean that finding them is easy! Especially here in western Montana, finding shorebirds can take persistence and dedication. We began our fall shorebird pursuit last week with a trip up to Ninepipe National Widlife Refuge, about an hour from our house. We were especially hoping to find a Short-billed Dowitcher, a rare Montana visitor that we still needed for our Year List. And guess what? No dowitcher. I did add Least Sandpiper to the year’s tally, and we enjoyed a terrific visit with a perched Peregrine Falcon, but clearly, (more) desperate measures were called for.

**As the Rolling Stones sang, “You can’t always find the birds you want,” but we’ll take a visit with a Peregrin Falcon on any outing!**

A few days later, Braden and I left the house at 6 a.m., heading for Helena, where large numbers of shorebirds had been reported during the past week. We made stops at Lake Helena and the Helena Valley regulating reservoir and saw some nice birds, including some pelicans, but . . . no shorebirds.

One of the great difficulties of IDing shorebirds is that they are often far, far away, necessitating hours hunched over a spotting scope. Unfortunately, our scope is not the best, either. Swarovski or Zeiss or Leica, are you listening??? We’d be happy to mention your name in the next ten posts for a free scope!

Heading south, we reached the day’s major destination, Canyon Ferry Lake. After spending thirty minutes on a fruitless search of one area, we finally reached the place hundreds of shorebirds had been reported just two days earlier. Thankfully, a few—a very few—still remained. That, however, was only the beginning of our challenge because this time of year, shorebirds are even harder to identify than usual. Mixed in with adults that are losing their breeding plumage are countless juveniles who, frankly, are a real pain in the butt to ID. Fortunately, Braden had been studying like crazy and was able to pick out Baird’s, Semipalmated, and Least Sandpipers—and a Year Bird for both of us, Pectoral Sandpiper. Hooray—but where had all the other shorebirds gone?

**After much searching, we finally located a flock of Baird’s Sandpipers at the Willow Creek Reservoir near Harrison—along with a nice raft of American Pelicans behind them.**

We decided to chase them by driving to a place neither of us had ever birded—Willow Creek Reservoir about thirty minutes south of Three Forks—and there, we found at least some of the missing Baird’s Sandpipers that had been farther north before. In fact, we found a flock of 64 of them, along with a pair of beautiful American Avocets. Even better, hiding among them were two “Semis” and a Western Sandpiper—another Year Bird for us! We drove the long route back to Missoula tired but satisfied. Fall migration doesn’t have the glamour and wow factor of spring, but for the patient, it can reap a beach full of rewards.

It takes some real sleuthing to discern and ID sandpipers, but Braden found this Western Sandpiper (center) and the Semipalmated Sandpiper (behind it) among a flock of 64 Baird’s Sandpipers (the other two birds)!

Winter Birding in Israel, Part II: Valley of the Cranes

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This week, enjoy Braden’s Part II of an Undetermined Series of Posts about our recent birding adventures in Israel and Jordan!

Over the next few days, our host family showed us around Northern Israel. We explored Akko, a seaside town with a great market full of delicious Arab and Jewish food and tall, Crusader-era walls. In Haifa, we took a drive around Mount Carmel and dined on amazing pizza and fantastic pistachio ice cream. My dad and I even spotted a Eurasian Griffon soaring over a residential area, a rare species of vulture that nested in the Carmel range.

**A lone Eurasian Spoonbill enjoys refuge in the Hula Valley Nature Reserve, once part of a vast wetlands that covered much of north-central Israel.**

After sightseeing, though, we were ready to do some serious birding. One day, my dad, one of our friends named Noam and I hopped on the train to Haifa (spotting flamingos feeding in salt ponds on the way), where we were picked up by our host’s brother Barak and father Avi. We headed north, stopping only to grab a snack at a roadside falafel & humus stand overlooking the vast Sea of Galilee and its nearby canyons and mosques. Soon, though, we left the mountains, driving past agricultural fields filled with Common Cranes. Eventually we arrived at the Hula Valley Nature Reserve, and were greeted by a large, modern visitor center. The best way to sightsee the refuge was to rent a golf cart, and that we did, setting off around a lake at Formula 1 speeds—about 10 miles per hour. We were soon greeted by hundreds of cranes, as well as various tactics that farmers used to prevent the birds from eating their crops. Every few minutes a gunshot, firework or horn would echo across the landscape (the birds were protected, don’t worry), and we even glimpsed a few people chasing the huge flocks.

**In the Hula, we got our first great look of the trip at what would prove to be one of our Top Five favorite Israeli birds—the White-throated Kingfisher.**

Before reaching the main lake, we stopped at a forested spot and were immediately astonished to see not one, but two birds that we’d been hoping to see: a White-throated Kingfisher and a Eurasian Hoopoe! The large kingfisher showed off its azure wings as it scanned the ground for rodents, while the hoopoe foraged quietly like a flicker, probably looking for ants. Spur-winged Lapwings, birds with sharp patterns of black and white on their wings, stood right by the path, unafraid, and almost every bird in the area allowed us to snap sharp, close-up photos. Before leaving we spotted a pair of European Goldfinches, chirping cheerfully despite their “sunburnt” faces.

At the lake itself bird activity increased substantially. Raptors were abundant, including Black and Black-winged Kites, Eurasian Marsh-Harriers, Common Buzzards and Eurasian Kestrels, all flying over the marshes. One kestrel even posed for us on a sign, devouring a mouse right in front of us! The species diversity of ducks was low, but those that were here, primarily shovelers, mallards and teal, foraged in the fields in huge numbers, and Eurasian Coots, Eurasian Moorhens and Little Grebes floated on the water. Shorebirds and waders also were present, and we spotted a few Glossy Ibises, Black-winged Stilts, Ruff and a single Eurasian Spoonbill by the shoreline. Gray Herons, Great, Cattle and Little Egrets and Great and Pygmy Cormorants topped every bare branch and island in the area.

**As this Eurasian Kestrel can attest to, there’s nothing like a good stretch after tearing the head off a mouse!**

At a lookout a helpful naturalist pointed out several harder-to-see species to us, including Black-tailed Godwits and Northern Lapwings hiding in the distance among the huge numbers of cranes. I snapped photos of several raptors that flew by, later identifying them as eagles! The two we spotted were Booted and Greater Spotted, just a small percentage of the eagle species the Old World supported. Pied Avocets floated on the waves of the pond like ducks.

Sing along with us: “One of these things is not like the other. One of these things is not the same. One of these things—” Oh, you get the idea. It’s hard to blend in with 30,000 Common Cranes!

We completed our loop, tracking down cranes for better photos and spotting a Common Kingfisher skulking in the brush back at the visitor center, the only one we’d see for the rest of the trip! This little refuge, surrounded by farmland, was all that remained of the huge wetlands that had once covered much of this area and supported hippos, ostriches and cheetahs. While much of the diversity of the past had disappeared, Hula still provides habitat for thousands of birds during all seasons and efficiently allows the public to experience them. The day had not disappointed.

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