Tag Archives: shorebirds

Least Terns and Black-and-White Warblers: Birding Medicine Lake to Makoshika

4 Replies

Welcome to the fifth installment of Braden’s and my remarkable 2024 Eastern Montana Odyssey. With this episode, and more than 1,000 miles under our belts, we round the halfway mark of our trip, approaching brand-new birding territory for us. Before that, however, we had some truly remarkable birding at past favorite birding sites. If you are enjoying these episodes, please share them with your birding friends and consider supporting our efforts by buying a *NEW* copy or two of one of Sneed’s books on the right.

After two fascinating, fulfilling days in Westby (see our last post), Braden and I were primed to tackle the next stage of our Eastern Montana safari. We’d already had some amazingly packed grassland birding experiences, so I have to admit I wasn’t as excited about Medicine Lake National Wildlife Refuge as I should have been. Part of that may be because last year, my pal Scott and I were turned back from the refuge by thick, slippery mud (aka “gumbo”). In any case, my bad attitude proved to be way off the mark, as Medicine Lake delivered one of our best grassland birding days ever.

At Medicine Lake, Braden counted 67, say it loud, SIXTY-SEVEN Grasshopper Sparrows!

Our visit began promisingly when Braden IDed an Alder Flycatcher by its distinctive “free beer” call right near the (closed) visitor’s center. What unfolded afterward was nothing less than a full-on showcase of grassland birds. Over the next nine miles, Braden recorded approximately 75 Chestnut-collared Longspurs, 67 Grasshopper Sparrows, 9 Clay-colored Sparrows, 6 Baird’s Sparrows and much, much more. He detected many of these by song, of course, but longspurs and sparrows were literally flying up everywhere around our car in some sections. As Braden noted in our eBird list: “Ridiculous.”

One of our better looks at Sharp-tailed Grouse in recent years was one of many delights at Medicine Lake NWR.

Not to be outdone, impressive numbers of waterfowl and game birds, including three Sharp-tailed Grouse, clamored to get on our eBird list. Surprisingly, so did a number of shorebirds. Where the road threaded two ponds, four White-rumped Sandpipers landed, giving us our closest looks of the entire trip. Here, we also saw eleven birds we desperately wanted to find—Red-necked Phalaropes. It’s lucky we did, too, since they would be the only RNPHs of our expedition.

After spending days poring through flocks of Wilson’s Phalaropes, we finally located a group of 11 Red-necked Phalaropes at Medicine Lake. Even better, they were in their uber-handsome breeding plumages.

Our Medicine Lake checklist: https://ebird.org/checklist/S180177051

On our way down to Glendive, we stopped at Culbertson Bridge for a modest 21 species, and then turned right down a dirt road. “What are we doing here?” I asked Braden. “There are supposed to be Least Terns nesting on sandbars in the Missouri River,” he told me. Okay, I admit it, Least Terns were totally off my radar and, honestly, I’m not sure I realized they even nested in Montana. Sure enough, they do. There are five subspecies of Least Terns, and Montana’s belong to the “Interior” group. Unfortunately, this group is federally endangered due to its small population, habitat loss, and disturbance by recreational activities. Only about fifty are thought to live in Montana.

Several miles down the road, I pulled over at a spot overlooking several large sand islands in the river. We scanned them with our binoculars. Zippo. At that point, I was ready to move on, but Braden decided to put in the extra effort of setting up our spotting scope, even though he also thought we were out of luck.

“I see them!” he suddenly shouted.

A distant view of some of Montana’s rarest birds, Least Terns. In the nation’s interior, these birds nest on sand islands in the middle of large rivers.

Indeed, almost impossible to see with the naked eye or through binoculars, two were sitting there blending in perfectly with the sand. As we watched, we saw two more for a total of four—probably the rarest birds we would see on the entire trip! More excitement was yet to come.

We were still squinting when we took this photo—after squinting at the sand island in the background to see four of Montana’s handful of Least Terns. Squint and you might be able to see them, too!

After a great late breakfast-for-lunch at Sunny’s diner in Sidney, we made it to Glendive, where we checked into a motel. After resting up a bit, we embarked on our final bird outing of this already-packed day—to Makoshika State Park.

Scott and I had a great time in Makoshika last year watching Field Sparrows and Rock Wrens, and as we entered the park, Braden and I also picked up both species. We had another agenda, however: finding Black-and-White Warblers. Predominantly an Eastern species, these handsome little birds are known to breed in Montana, but the only other one we’d ever seen was right here in Makoshika on a trip with Nick Ramsey in 2017. Dutifully, Braden and I hiked the same trail to see if we could find another one.

Even without birds, the badlands scenery at Makoshika State Park is some of Montana’s most dramatic.

Nope. Worse, the hike wore me out after our extremely long day. Still, we had one more place to check—a campground way up on top of the hills with spectacular views of the surrounding badlands. We parked, got out, and began looking around. As usual, I was fairly skeptical of finding one, but then Braden’s ears perked up: “I think I hear one.”

We scrambled down a fairly steep slope until Braden stopped and looked up into a tree. “There it is!”

Elated, we both quickly got our binoculars on it, and I even took some crummy photos. After that, we just slowly followed this amazing, improbable little bird as it searched for insects on one tree, then another. By this time, the sun had started to sink low in the West, and standing there watching this bird created a sublime experience—one of those memorable moments that makes birding the best activity on earth.

Finding this Black-and-White Warbler at Makoshika was a powerful testament to perseverance in searching for uncommon birds. Much like nuthatches, these birds often hang upside down or point downward as they rapidly search tree trunks and branches for unsuspecting insects.

Eastern Odyssey 2024: Return to Westby

3 Replies

Our fourth post about our epic 2024 eastern Montana expedition takes us to the birding mecca of Westby. Over the years, Westby has grown an outsized reputation in the imaginations of Montana birders. To find out why, read on—and don’t forget to check out Sneed’s newest picture book, Like No Other—Earth’s Coolest One-of-a-Kind Creatures by clicking on the image to the right!

After, to be honest, a pretty disappointing time in Plentywood (see last our last post), Braden and I continued our Eastern Montana Odyssey 2024 by driving twenty-six miles to a place that has obtained almost mythical status among Montana birders: Westby. Westby sits in the very northeastern corner of the state and has long been known as a place where eastern songbirds clip Montana on their way to northern breeding grounds. Some fool cut down some of the best bird habitat there a few years ago, before Braden and I ever visited, but birders still discover rarities such as Mourning Warblers, Black-throated Green Warblers, and Rose-breasted Grosbeaks every year. The bad news? Braden and I were about two weeks late to have a serious shot at anything like that. The good news? We still had a great chance to see migrating shorebirds.

Westby literally straddles the North Dakota border, making it a go-to destination for birders hoping to snag rare migrants for their Montana life lists.

We arrived early and decided not even to waste time looking for songbirds right away. Instead, we immediately drove north out of town toward a series of pothole lakes well known for shorebirds. Changes in water levels can be shocking out here year to year, and I quickly saw with dismay that one pond that had brimmed with water during my visit with my pal Scott Callow last year had gone bone dry. Fortunately, another pond with just a brief window of visibility did have water. “Shorebirds!” I shouted. We broke out the spotting scope and did our best to ID what was out there. Sanderlings could be made out by their distinct dark red heads and boldly black legs and bills. More exciting, we were able to ID Semipalmated Sandpipers and a species we hadn’t seen in Montana for four years, White-rumped Sandpipers.

This is about as close as we got to a White-rumped Sandpiper, but you can see a distinctive ID feature—the dark spots stretching down its side under the wings. Sanderlings are feeding behind it.

As we continued to explore, we got better looks at all of these birds in various places, along with Wilson’s Phalaropes, Willets, and Marbled Godwits. One bird high on our list was Nelson’s Sparrow, and at a little marshy area right next to the road, Braden was able to hear one, though my crummy hearing once again thwarted me.

A Marbled Godwit checked us out as we were scoping other shorebirds.

We continued to explore the rest of the day, both driving north and south of town and even making a foray across the border into North Dakota, where we picked up a respectable 23 species in a couple of miles. A wonderful development in Westby is a new AirBnB about fifty yards from the border and I had reserved it for two nights. That evening, I took a stroll through town to see what could be seen. No rare warblers, but I did have a lovely visit with a Brown Thrasher and gobs of American Goldfinches feeding on spilled grain next to the grain elevators looming over the north end of town. When I returned, a Say’s Phoebe was sitting on our house!

Thanks to our rented house, we hit the streets of Westby early the next morning. Again, no rare songbirds, but we did see a couple of Swainson’s Thrushes, along with Orchard Orioles and Purple Martins as part of our 22-bird list. Once again, our best surprises popped up as we explored surrounding areas. Venturing north we got great, close looks at the shorebirds we’d seen before, with a soundtrack of Wilson’s Snipe and Soras—one right next to the car—filling the air. Braden identified a Ferruginous Hawk flying overhead and we heard two Baird’s Sparrows and even a Sprague’s Pipit! Braden picked up at least four Nelson’s Sparrows and one popped up right next to our car, giving us our best look ever. Range maps don’t even show that Nelson’s reach into Montana, so this is a great place for birders to pick them up for their Montana life lists!

With few people on the roads, this Wilson’s Snipe took time to check out what we were up to.

Still, the “catch” of the morning happened as we were skirting Round Lake. Ever since arriving, we had kept our eyes sharp for one particular shorebird. This morning as I drove, Braden suddenly yelled, “Stop!” We quickly got our eyes on it and then set up our spotting scope. It was none other than a Piping Plover! I had seen my Montana lifer PIPL last year with my buddy Scott, but this was Braden’s Montana lifer. Even better, there were two—one stalking another with obviously amorous intentions.

I think that Piping Plover on the left should be looking over its shoulder, don’t you?

North America has three distinct breeding populations of Piping Plovers: one in the Northeast, one in and around the Great Lakes, and one on the northern Great Plains. The world total population may have dropped to as low as 3,000 pairs, but the Great Lakes and Northeast populations have apparently been making a comeback. Montana, is home to a breeding population of perhaps 1-200 pairs of these delightful birds, but the outlook for the northern plains population may not be as rosy as it is for the Northeastern population. Frequent drought (exacerbated by climate change), poor water management practices, pesticides, and an increase of predators make its future dicey. Still, this near-threatened bird is hanging on and our fingers are crossed that some better management practices will also help it increase.

We got an amazing number of great Bobolink photo opportunities on the trip, including this one south of Westby.
This Baird’s Sparrow popped up on the fence while we were scoping a brand new lake south of town.

In the trip’s spirit of birding new places, we decided to head down a new road south of town. We had low expectations, but soon encountered a lake with lush green grasses surrounding it. We got out to scope the lake and discovered at least 250 Sanderlings out on a sand bar. It is while we were scoping that we got our biggest surprises, however. Grassland birds just kept popping up on the barbed wire fence to check us out or perch on plants very close to us. During the next forty or fifty minutes, we got incredible looks at Bobolinks, Baird’s Sparrows, Chestnut-collared Longspurs, Grasshopper Sparrows, Clay-colored Sparrows, Horned Larks, and of course, Savannah and Vesper Sparrows. Every time we looked up, there was another great bird not fifty feet away. It truly was one of the coolest things we’ve ever experienced—and was a great reminder to keep taking the road not birded!

It’s become a tradition to visit this old homestead every time we trek to Westby. Each visit, the old place loses a bit of ground. Soon it will be part of the prairie earth.

Eastern Montana Odyssey 2024: Bowdoin NWR & Fort Peck

6 Replies

Here is Part 2 of Braden’s and my eastern Montana trip report, which began with a wonderful time at the Wings Across the Big Sky birding festival in Helena (see our last post by clicking here). Today’s installment details this year’s visit to one of our favorite birding destinations, Bowdoin National Wildlife Refuge, and then our evening birding and camping at Fort Peck. Enjoy and please feel free to share this post!

After our two days enjoying scintillating field trips and lectures at this year’s Wings Across the Big Sky birding festival in Helena, Braden and I spent two nights at American Prairie’s Antelope Creek Campground. I’d tell you what we were doing there, but for now at least, our lips are sealed. On Tuesday morning, however, we rose early, packed the car and headed toward what has become an annual favorite father-son destination: 15,551-acre Bowdoin National Wildlife Refuge.

You know you’ve reached eastern Montana when you start seeing Franklin’s Gulls. These gulls were made famous by ZZ Top’s classic hit, “Sharp-Dressed Gulls!”

It had actually been a couple of years since Braden and I visited Bowdoin together, so we especially relished this year’s opportunity. Bowdoin offers a wonderful mix of wetlands and prairie habitat where you can find a terrific diversity of birds. Even better, this year’s water levels showed a significant improvement over last year, when it looked as though the main lake might dry up altogether.

Aaaaaw. Baby Killdeer at Bowdoin!

Unfortunately, today, windy conditions proved a challenge, especially in the grassland sections. While usually we can just drive with the windows open, listening for various songs, this year we generally had to keep the windows rolled up to keep from being sand-blasted by wind and dust. The wind also forced the smaller sparrows that we especially sought to sit down in the grass where they were difficult if not impossible to see. Only the intrepid meadowlarks braved the tops of sage plants, being blown back and forth as if they were on a carnival ride.

We saw at least 18 Willets while driving the Bowdoin loop—a record for us there. These birds, like several other shorebirds, breed in the grasslands around the main lake.

Nonetheless, thanks to diligence and Braden’s great ears, we managed to locate at least a few Chestnut-collared Longspurs, Lark Buntings, and Grasshopper, Lark, Clay-colored, Savannah, and Song Sparrows.

We also got great looks at White-faced Ibises, Willets, American Avocets, and other “usual suspects” in the aquatic realm. It’s always reassuring to see the hundreds of white pelicans nesting out on the main island.

We never get tired of seeing Wilson’s Phalaropes, which breed at Bowdoin NWR in good numbers.

One bird we especially missed was a Baltimore Oriole, which we usually see by stopping at the refuge visitor center before driving the big loop. After we finished the loop, however, we decided to give the BAORs one more shot and sat in our car munching our turkey-and-cheese sandwiches. Sure enough, after ten minutes, a bright orange bird with a black head flew across our vision! Sometimes, you just gotta be patient. All told, we observed 76 species at Bowdoin. But our day had not yet finished.

Our Bowdoin Bird List.

I’ve always felt captivated by these giant Art Deco power station towers at Fort Peck Dam. By camping here, we discovered that the towers are brilliantly lit up at night—a strange effect so far from “civilization.”

After Bowdoin, we drove to Fort Peck to spend the night camping below the dam. I’ve always been fascinated with the story of the Fort Peck dam and how, out in the middle of nowhere, a medium-sized city sprang up to build what, at the time, was by far the largest dam in the world. Today, it is still impressive, stretching more than four miles long, and “looked over” by two large (and to me beautiful) Art Deco power plant towers.

Who said Fort Peck doesn’t have fine dining?

Braden and I found a cozy campsite, set up our tents, and set out to explore the extensive campground. Our top target here were Field Sparrows. We didn’t see any. But we did get an unexpected triple shot of orioles: Baltimore, Bullock’s, and Orchard, all of which dropped by our campsite at least once.

Fort Peck gave us by far our most cooperative experience ever with Baltimore Orioles. This male was part of at least two breeding pairs we found in the campground.

We also got great looks at another Montana favorite, Brown Thrashers, the first of quite a few we would see on our trip.

One of our favorite Montana birds, Brown Thrashers would put in several appearances on our trip, including right in our Fort Peck campsite!

We generally try to avoid staying at large campgrounds, which can be noisy and sterile, but I was glad we gave Fort Peck a try. Even though my sleeping pad kept deflating through the night, the campground was a bit out of the wind, and offered up birds aplenty! Besides, how could I dislike a place that featured my book Beaver & Otter Get Along . . . Sort Of on its summer reading program? Tomorrow, we would try more prairie birding and hope that the wind would die down . . . but would it? Stay tuned for our next report!

As we were lining up our campsite, Braden suddenly exclaimed, “Oh my god! It’s your book!” Helped make my day! Thank you Fort Peck!

Wedding Birding in Washington State, Part II

6 Replies

Braden and I write FatherSonBirding in the hopes of sharing the wonders of birds and birding, and the urgency to protect them. We do not accept advertising or donations, but if you’d like to support our work, please consider buying *NEW* copies of some of Sneed’s books—First-Time Japan, for instance, or my forthcoming picture book for younger readers, Like No Other: Earth’s Coolest One-of-a-Kind Creatures, available for pre-order now. We appreciate your interest and hope you will keep reading!

In case you missed Wedding Birding Part I, click here!

Saturday was the long-anticipated wedding day of our friends, Jazz and Brad, but the Big Event wasn’t kicking off until 3:30 p.m. True to my recent trend, I awoke at 3:30 a.m. with ample time to hit the birding spot that I most looked forward to on the trip: March Point. Why? Because I thought it might offer my best opportunity to find both seabirds and shorebirds. Looking at a map, in fact, March Point looked like a wonderful, natural area and I was already envisioning pristine beaches and offshore waters loaded with birds. Imagine my surprise when I arrived at 6:00 a.m. to find that March Point is actually the site of a gigantic Marathon Petroleum refinery!

March Point was not quite the undisturbed natural area I was expecting!

It was a cold, blustery morning, but undeterred, I pulled over and scanned the offshore waters. I spotted several groups of presumed Pelagic Cormorants, but precious little else on the waters or the shore. With some persistence, I did locate another Pigeon Guillemot out near the ginormous pier jutting out into Puget Sound, but it was slim pickins.

What do you suppose this Pelagic Cormorant is about to eat? I’m guessing an eel-like fish called a wrasse!

I kept driving, pulling over now and then to scan the shore—no doubt closely monitored by the refinery’s security team. Finally, at one pull-out, I spotted a bird near the top of my trip wish list: a Black Oystercatcher. I watched this magnificent bird from my car for several minutes before it flew off, leaving a smile on my face.

This Black Oystercatcher at March Point definitely strolled into contention for “Trip Bird” honors for our Wedding Day weekend.

Turning around, I made my way back around immense oil storage tanks and stopped to study some Glaucous-winged X Western hybrid gulls. It took some research and a discussion with Braden to figure out exactly what these gulls were. Glaucous-winged Gulls are known for beautiful soft gray wings and wing tips, but all of the gulls I was seeing looked too dark—yet not dark enough to be Western Gulls. According to Braden, though, this part of Washington State was dead center in the transition zone between the two species, and accordingly, most of the birds were hybrids.

This Glaucous-winged X Western hybrid gull is typical of the gulls I saw during our entire trip to Washington: too dark for Glaucous-winged, too light for Western. Very educational!

On my way back to the hotel, I stopped at Padilla Bay at the base of March Point for a nice visit with some warblers and swallows. There, I heard my year’s first Black-headed Grosbeak giving off its frenetic robin-like song. Then, it was back to Burlington to prepare for the wedding.

The wedding was a smash hit, full of love and music and joy. And never fear, dear readers, I did amass an eBird list of six species at the wedding venue, including the year’s first look at a Black-headed Grosbeak, singing in celebration of Jazz and Brad’s big day. Oh, and they (Jazz and Brad, not the grosbeaks) served Thai food at the wedding. How good is that???

Alas, the next day, we were due to return to Seattle for our flight home. Fortunately, we didn’t need to be at the airport until noon or one o’clock, leaving time for one last morning birding adventure. I really wasn’t sure where I should go. I wasn’t having much luck along the coast, and felt I’d seen most of the forest birds that interested me. But there were two more species I wanted to take a shot at: Black-throated Gray Warbler and Red-breasted Sapsucker.

Ted Reep Park offered the trip’s last birding opportunity—and my best shot at seeing both Red-breasted Sapsuckers and Black-throated Gray Warblers. A bit of bush-whacking required!

It had been years since I’d seen either one of these birds and, well, I was missing them. Lucky me, eBird showed a spot only a mile from our hotel which had recorded both birds in the past month. I wasn’t sure what my chances of finding them might be, but after a quick bowl of oatmeal, I made my way over to Ted Reep Park. I parked in the deserted YMCA lot, despite warning signs threatening that I would be towed. After all, I was a member of the Missoula YMCA!

From the time I pulled up, the spot looked—or rather, sounded—promising. Merlin’s Sound ID immediately picked up White-crowned Sparrow, Black-headed Grosbeak, Warbling Vireo, Song Sparrow, Yellow Warbler, and more, and I soon started seeing some of these birds.

You just gotta love Song Sparrows. Not only are they incredibly handsome critters, they often pose for close-up photographs!

This was thick riparian habitat, however, where visuals were hard to come by and most birding was by ear—not ideal for someone like myself with hearing disabilities and a brain that had trouble remembering bird vocalizations. My new hearing aids were a vast improvement over my old ones, though, and with the help of Sound ID I began teasing out most of the species around me. Then, I heard something that got me really excited: a stuttering drumming sound, like a car having trouble starting up! A sapsucker! But which one?

A quick look at my Sibley app told me that Red-breasted was the only sapsucker remotely likely to be in this area, so I plunged into the woods, following the trail toward the stutter-step drumming. Predictably, the trail grew more and more sketchy, and I soon found myself crawling under and over logs that had fallen across the path. Nevertheless, after five minutes, I found myself standing directly beneath the sapsucker drumming.

There were at least two sapsuckers—but probably three or four—and it became evident that they were dueling, perhaps over territories or mates. But darn it, try as I might, I could not spot any of them against the backlit tree trunks and branches! Just as frustrating, the birds kept moving around, so like a Keystone Cop I chased the birds up and down the trail. Finally, I despaired of getting a look at any of them, but by now I at least was confident that these were indeed Red-breasted Sapsuckers. And wouldn’t you know, as soon as I decided that, two of the birds chased each other right by me, their red heads clearly visible even in the dark forest!

Happy, I bushwhacked through raspberry vines and a swath of chest-high grass until I ran into another trail that led me back toward my car. I still hadn’t seen a Black-throated Gray Warbler, and didn’t find one on the hike back, but I was delighted to have discovered such a wonderful birding spot. It again reaffirmed how important it is to protect natural habitats for animals and people. Bravo Washington for protecting places like Ted Reep Park!

Washington Wedding Trip Report!

I failed to capture any photos of the Red-breasted Sapsuckers, but just love this White-crowned Sparrow’s pose out at March Point. I think he’s singing “Once we all wean ourselves off of fossil fuels, we can turn this place back into the natural habitat it is meant to be!” At least that’s what Google Translate came up with.

Meditating with Loons: Spontaneous Birding Spectacular, Part II

7 Replies

Braden and I write FatherSonBirding in the hopes of sharing the wonders of birds and birding, and the urgency to protect them. We do not accept advertising or donations, but if you’d like to support our work, please consider buying *NEW* copies of some of Sneed’s books—First-Time Japan: A Step-by-Step Guide for the Independent Traveler, for instance, or the best kids’ woodpecker book ever, Woodpeckers: Drilling Holes & Bagging Bugs. Here, we are pleased to continue last week’s “spontaneous” narrative. For Part I, see our last post. Enjoy!

After giving my keynote talk to the Montana Library Association (and yes, it went well, thank you!), I changed out of my good clothes, checked out of my room and hit the road—but not too far. It was early afternoon by now, but before heading home I thought I’d better take advantage of the opportunity to visit Warm Springs Wildlife Management Area, one of Montana’s top birding destinations. It being migration season, the possibilities were almost endless of what I might find, but I kept my expectations low. Why? Primarily because much of Warm Springs is not easily accessible. The refuge consists mainly of several very large reservoirs designed to help clean toxic chemicals from the waters pouring out of the world famous Berkeley Pit copper mine in Butte. The road, however, only gets close to these bodies of water in certain places, so it’s easy to miss rarities that might show up. Nonetheless, I took the “back entrance” into the refuge and soon found myself at the bottom of the large, southernmost reservoir. The scene before me immediately put me in a happy place.

This photo doesn’t capture the size and scope of the Warm Springs ponds—or how amazing they look filled with waterfowl!

Stretching across the water were hundreds, no, thousands of ducks and other water birds, and I quickly set up my scope for a proper look. I usually try to estimate bird numbers wherever I am, but as I searched across the reservoir with the scope, I quickly abandoned that effort. I recorded 5000 coots, but that could easily be low. I also saw hundreds of Northern Shovelers and Ruddy Ducks, and noted plenty of Buffleheads, Ring-necked Ducks, Lesser Scaups, Gadwalls, American Wigeons, and more. A duck party!

Just a few of the birds stretching out before me at Warm Springs. Pop quiz: can you identify three species?

When scoping such a vast array of birds, it’s a natural instinct to look for the unusual or rare species, and after a few minutes, I landed on a pair of Red-necked Grebes—my first of the year. My biggest find, however, was the year’s first Yellow-rumped Warbler (Audubon’s) in the trees next to me! After making an inadequate attempt to eBird what I saw before me, I jumped back in the minivan and continued up the road. I passed a resident pair of Bald Eagles, and then pulled over at a small fishing access next to a long dike that separated this reservoir from the next. I grabbed my binoculars and ventured out onto the dike, and right away saw another Red-necked Grebe. Then, I recognized a bird that made me rush back to the minivan for my camera. I hurried back out onto the dike and trained my lens on it—a Common Loon!

During breeding season, Red-necked Grebes have a circumpolar distribution, but in the US they breed only in a few areas along our northern border. Fortunately, Montana is one of those places—though this guy/gal may well have been heading to Canada or Alaska.

Now, loons are not exactly rare in Montana, but they aren’t gimmes, either (for instance, see post “Rare Bird Hat Trick”). Last year, I saw only one—a quick fly-over at Glacier National Park. If you don’t visit one of the lakes where they breed in summer, you have to catch them during migration. Braden and I have seen a number of COLOs during fall migration, but this was the first I could remember in spring. But wait. As I was trying to get a decent photo of this loon, another one popped up nearby. “No way!” I muttered out loud. But wait, then I spotted a third, and eventually, a fourth! (I think I saw a fifth, but these ‘torpedoes’ can travel so far under water that I can’t be sure.)

This pair of Common Loons defines the word serenity.

Needless to say, I felt “loonstatic.” My only problem? Every bird was backlit, making a good photo impossible. To try to rectify this, I walked around to the parking area where I could get “up-light” of the birds, hoping they wouldn’t depart before I reached a good spot. They didn’t. I took enough photos that I finally got a really nice one (see below). My other problem, though, is that . . . I needed to relax.

After capturing my best COLO shot ever, it was time to Zen out with some quiet loon time.

More and more, recently, Braden and I have discussed the obsession to rack up species and get good photos without pausing to really appreciate them. Both of us, in fact, have been making an effort just to be still in the moment, and with four stunningly gorgeous loons diving for food in front of me, this seemed like a perfect time. I sat down on a rock and set my camera and binoculars on the ground next to me. I watched the loons for a few moments and then just closed my eyes. I thanked the universe for this special moment and tried to breathe deeply, focusing on the now for a few minutes.

Alas, I did not attain “loon-lightenment,” but when I opened my eyes, the loons were still floating, preening, and diving in front of me. Several times, I watched them surface with crayfish in their bills. I’m not sure if the loons did anything special to them, such as knocking loose their exoskeletons, but down the hatch they went. It was beautiful.

A little “crawfish loon-touffée” for lunch!

My birding had not finished, either. After Warm Springs, I tooled up the road a few miles to another spot that many birders don’t take time to check out—Racetrack Pond. Often, there’s not much to see at Racetrack, but I had occasionally stumbled into some treats. Again, it was migration season, so you just never knew. As I pulled off the interstate and turned right, I immediately saw a couple of hundred gulls out on small islands in the pond. “Hm,” I thought. “Maybe I can pick up some California Gulls there.” As I drove closer, however, I realized that they weren’t gulls. They were Snow Geese!

I pulled over and again set up the spotting scope—and not just to see the Snow Geese. I had an ulterior motive. Almost exactly a year earlier, at Browns Lake, I had stumbled into some migrating Ross’s Geese mixed in with a large Snow Geese flock. “Maybe there are some Ross’s hiding in this one,” I thought with an evil grin. I diligently scanned the flock for several minutes, mainly looking for any geese with stubby pink bills. Ross’s, though, also are a bit smaller than SNGO and tend to have a cleaner, whiter appearance. I thought I was going to strike out when I glimpsed two geese that fit the, ahem, bill. I watched them for at least ten minutes before discarding any doubts. Yay! This was only my third time ever seeing Ross’s Geese, and to get them two years in a row felt like an accomplishment. By the way, ROGOs are also a wonderful conservation success story. Their numbers had dropped to just a few thousand by the 1950s. Today, it is estimated that there are more than two million! Let’s hear it for conservation!

Can you pick out the two Ross’s Geese in this photo? Once you know what you’re looking for, they stand out like, well, um, Ross’s Geese. The prominent, clean white goose just right of center is one of them. The other is swimming toward it from about 10 o’clock.

My discoveries weren’t over. At the north end of the pond, I again pulled out the scope to discover a Greater Yellowlegs, a Killdeer, and two real surprises—an American Avocet and five, count ‘em, FIVE Marbled Godwits. “Perhaps they’re heading to the same place as yesterday’s Willets,” I wondered (see our last post). I later learned that large flocks of avocets had been rampaging through the state, so this one was right on schedule.

With the help of my spotting scope, I was able to pick out the American Avocet (far left) and Marbled Godwits (far right) along the far shore of Racetrack Pond.

With another wonderful day of birding under my belt, it was time to head home, but really, these days just primed my birding pump. Many adventures lie ahead—especially when Braden returns home from Costa Rica in a couple of weeks. Be prepared for plenty of posts this summer!