Not All Coots Are Old

Juvenile American Coot

I don't know why people always talk about old coots... not all coots are old. Earlier this summer I found a group of juvenile American Coots and was able to get them to pose for some portraits. 



A couple of young coots



Ma and Pa Blackbird

Female Red-winged Blackbird

It's autumn, and that means the blackbirds are on the move. For several weeks I have been seeing large flocks of blackbirds out in the country. Most of the time these are single-sex flocks. That means the males travel together, and the females travel together.

Male Red-winged Blackbird

I enjoy the differences between male and female blackbirds. As you look at the four birds pictured here, you notice that the males are more brightly colored than the females. However, that doesn't mean that the females are any less lovely.

Female Yellow-headed Blackbird

The females have soft, intricate patterns that make them modest-looking, but very pretty and feminine. The next time you see blackbirds... look for the females. They're harder to see, but you will be glad you took the time to study them.

 

Male Yellow-headed Blackbird

Farm Island... After the Flood

Stone marker at entrance of Farm Island near Pierre, South Dakota

Farm Island has always been one of the best places to go birding in central South Dakota. Whether you were seeking Northern Saw-whet Owls in the winter, warblers in the spring, cuckoos in the summer, or ducks in the fall, you could find them at Farm Island. Then came the Great Missouri River Flood of 2011. Farm Island was inaccessible for three months this summer, but the dropping river levels in September have allowed access by foot if you are willing to walk from a remote parking area.

Farm Island trailhead showing erosion around restroom
Note the high-water mark on the outhouse

A large hole around the main restroom greets visitors just past the entrance sign.  

The main Farm Island trail: eroded and strewn with debris

As the river roared over Farm Island this summer it caused erosion of the trails and left logs and other debris in its wake.

 

Mound of silt covering part of a Farm Island trail

Some parts of the trails are covered in a deep layer of silt. It is not certain how quickly the trail system in this state recreation area can be repaired. My guess is they will be working on it all next year. Some of the trails are probably beyond repair.  

Great Blue Heron at Farm Island

The flood has changed the topography of Farm Island forever. The unanswered question is how many of the trees will survive? Farm Island was one of the few heavily wooded areas in the region, and the loss of the trees would be very detrimental to the local populations of some bird species. Early speculation by forestry experts is that most of the trees will die within the next two years. I hope they are wrong, but I am bracing for the worst. Whatever happens, though, the birds will adjust and some of them will even thrive. Can you imagine all the fun the woodpeckers could have with all those dead trees? As I left Farm Island, I watched a Great Blue Heron surveying the island from atop a dead snag. The heron seemed to have a hopeful outlook, and I guess we should, too. Like that Great Blue Heron, we survived the flood!

I Went Gulling!

Little Gull

There were reports last week of two rare gulls in the Pierre area. Yesterday afternoon I drove up to the Oahe Dam to have a look. The Great Flood of 2011 has caused the closure of the usual parking lots at the stilling basin, and it was quite a walk to get down there. Large numbers of gulls were congregated below the stilling basin, but they appeared to be all Franklin's Gulls and Ring-billed Gulls. After 45 minutes I walked about a quarter mile farther downstream along the west shoreline. Before long I spotted a Sabine's Gull, and shortly thereafter, a Little Gull. It was a long walk back to the parking lot, but seeing these two out-of-range gulls made it worthwhile. After all, gulling is a verb, and verbs do require action!



Sabine's Gull

Looking at Birds

"Look at the birds."

Matthew 6:26

"Oregon" Dark-eyed Junco

look, v. to direct your eyes toward something so that you can see it.

Look at the three Dark-eyed Juncos pictured here. They represent three different sub-species of Dark-eyed Junco. If feather coloration is all we are looking at, then we would conclude these birds belong to three separate species. Indeed, Dark-eyed Juncos were formerly divided into several species.



"Slate-colored" Dark-eyed Junco

However, if we look beyond the outward appearance of the feathers and really "look" at these birds out in their natural surroundings, we see that they are all pretty much the same. They have the same form and structure, the same posture, they move in the same way, and they forage for food in the same manner.



"White-winged" Dark-eyed Junco

Looking at birds is not as easy as it sounds. The only way to get really good at it is to go out and practice doing it. That's why I love Matthew 6:26, the Bible verse quoted above. There are very few activities that are direct commands from the Bible. So, will you join me? Let's all go "LOOK AT THE BIRDS!"

A Sparrowing We Will Go

Savannah Sparrow

sparrowing, v. to observe and identify sparrows in their natural surroundings.

The best places to go sparrowing are overgrown weedy or grassy areas interspersed with shrubs and small trees. That sounds like my side yard! Late September marks the start of the fall sparrow migration, so I plan to check my yard this morning to see if they have arrived yet. Then maybe I'll get out in the country later this weekend to see if I can find some more of these interesting little birds. Would you like to join me? LET'S GO SPARROWING!



Clay-colored Sparrow

The Itch to Twitch



Green Violetear in Sioux City, Iowa: September, 2006
(Photo by Paul O. Roisen)

twitching, v. to seek out rare birds that are blown off course or out of their normal range.

Twitching is a word commonly used by British birders, but I rarely hear it in American birding circles. Nevertheless, it is a useful birding term and one with which we should all be familiar. Twitchers are what Americans usually just refer to as chasers. They are birders who have the time and money to respond to every rare bird report at the drop of a hat. They will race across the continent if necessary to view an out of range, vagrant bird. I have twitched a few times myself. Sometimes I was successful, and sometimes I was not. Pictured here are two of my successes. The hummingbird was easy. I drove just five miles for that one. The nightingale-thrush was a little harder, but a round trip of 500 miles is still easy by twitching standards. So, how about it? Next time you hear about an extremely rare bird, give me a call. LET'S GO TWITCHING!



Orange-billed Nightingale-Thrush
Spearfish Canyon, South Dakota: July, 2010
(Photo by Paul O. Roisen)



Let's Go Gulling!

California Gull

gull, n. a long-winged, web-footed seabird with a raucous call, typically having white plumage with a gray or black mantle.

gulling, v. to observe and identify gulls in their natural surroundings. 

Herring Gull

This is the most important thing to remember when you go gulling: Never, never, never say, "seagulls." They are GULLS. Plain and simple. Unfortunately, the name is the only thing about gulls that is simple. Gulls drive the most seasoned birder absolutely crazy sometimes. So go slowly. Learn the common gulls in your area first. Then, try to go out gulling with someone who is really an expert. Before long you will be standing out there in foul weather, and hooked on gulling like the rest of us. Grab your binoculars. Grab your hooded parka. Grab your gloves. LET'S GO GULLING!

Lesser Black-backed Gull

Let's Go Shorebirding!

Long-billed Dowitchers

shorebird, n. any of various birds, such as the sandpiper, plover, dowitcher or godwit, that frequent the shores of coastal or inland waters.

shorebirding, v. to observe and identify shorebirds in their natural surroundings.

At certain times of the year, when weather conditions have been just right, it can be great fun to go out to a mudflat or flooded farm field and look for shorebirds. The various species of shorebirds can be maddening to differentiate, but with a little practice you can get the hang of it. Many shorebirds are amazing migrants, traveling between northern Canada and South America. Come on! LET'S GO SHOREBIRDING!



Hudsonian Godwits



Let's Go Owling!



Northern Saw-whet Owl

owling, v.

1. to engage in the smuggling of sheep or wool from England to another country, especially France, from 1367-1824.

2. to engage in the popular internet photo prank of sitting in a perched position while looking off into the distance to mimic the posture of an owl.

3. to observe and identify owls in their natural surroundings, usually at night.

Yes, the word owl can be used as a verb. Until today, however, I did not know the diverse ways in which the verb owl has been used over the centuries! I encourage you to go out and do a little owling this week (hopefully, of the definition #3 variety!). In my neighborhood, owling can be as simple as getting up before dawn and listening for our local Great Horned Owl. Wherever you are, you can find owls. So... LET'S GO OWLING!

The Verbs of Birding

Male Northern Harrier on fence post

birding, v. to observe and identify birds in their natural surroundings,

A have a t-shirt that says, "Go birding!" and another t-shirt that says, "Life Is Simple: Eat, Sleep, Bird." Many times when I am wearing one of those shirts out in public I will get bewildered stares or hear odd comments. The reason, I think, is that most people are not familiar with the use of the words, bird or birding, as verbs. I guess that's why I enjoy wearing those shirts-- it gets people talking and thinking about birding. If you think the use of the verbs, bird and birding, is hard for people to understand... that's nothing compared to some of the other verbs we use in birding. In the next few days we will explore some of those other "verbs of birding." For today, however, your assignment is to go out and "observe and identify birds in their natural surroundings." Go birding!

My Favorite Bird!

Cedar Waxwing

Cedar Waxwing is my favorite bird. It was a close decision between the waxwing and the robin, with a few other birds receiving strong consideration, but the waxwing survived the competition and immerged the winner. In doing comparisons with other birds, using whatever criteria I chose, the Cedar Waxwing always came out on top. What are my reasons? First, there is the overall shape and texture of the bird. Words like sleek, streamlined, and silky come to mind. I like birds with crests, and the Cedar Waxwing's spiffy swept-back chapeau is quite distinctive. Then there is the bird's coloration-- the slate blue of the back, the wings and the tail; the soft glowing yellow of the underside; the tawny brown that seems to envelope the bird like a form-fitting body glove; the bright yellow terminal band on the tail; the red, waxy appendages on the wings; and the mysterious black bandit mask. Wow!      



Cedar Waxwing in a cedar tree

Beyond the exterior appearance of the Cedar Waxwing, however, I am hopelessly enamored of this bird's character and charm. Cedar Waxwings always travel in flocks. You almost never see one bird by itself. There is a reason for this. Cedar Waxwings are frugivorous, meaning they eat fruit. In order to survive, Cedar Waxwings must travel widely in search of ripening crops of fruit. One bird would not be able to survive this lifestyle on its own. I have seen thousands of Cedar Waxwings foraging side-by-side in the treetops, but I have never seen them fight among themselves. They always appear to be cooperative, kind, and caring toward one another.



Cedar Waxwing

I remember the first time I ever saw Cedar Waxwings. I was 13 years old, and my mother called me over to look out the north window of our house. In the bushes beside the house were dozens of beautiful little birds. Mom had never seen that kind of bird before, but she looked in her bird book, and shortly declared they were Cedar Waxwings. We went outside, and watched as this flock of waxwings systematically devoured the berries on our cotoneaster hedge. Then, an hour later, they were gone. It almost seemed unreal, but I was fascinated by these exotic-looking little nomads.



Cedar Waxwing

Some of you will argue with my choice of Cedar Waxwing as favorite bird. You are entitled to your opinions, and choosing a favorite is a very subjective enterprise anyway. I have tried to be fair in my assessments, and I am confident I have chosen the bird that really represents what I truly appreciate most in birds. I hope you have enjoyed this little discussion of some of my favorite birds. Now is your turn. How did I do in my judgments?



My 2nd Favorite Bird

American Robin

Who doesn't like robins? They are symbols of everything good, hopeful, pleasant, and cheerful. Some birds make messes on city sidewalks; some birds devour grain from farmers' fields; some birds kill smaller birds at backyard feeders; some birds are evil-looking and scary. American Robins, on the other hand, are well-behaved, friendly, and welcoming.



American Robin in snow

Most people consider robins to be harbingers of spring, and there is much rejoicing when the first robin is seen on their front lawn searching for worms. Though I do enjoy robins in the spring, my favorite time to see them is in the dead of winter. American Robins do migrate south from Canada and the northern tier of states in the autumn. However, here in South Dakota they can be found all year if you know where to look. During the cold months, robins in central South Dakota live in cedar draws along the Missouri River. In other parts of the country they utilize similar habitats where they can find an available food supply. 



American Robin in juniper tree

Though robins eat insects and other small invertebrates when the weather is mild, when fall comes they turn to a diet of berries and fruit. Juniper berries are a common source of food for robins in the winter. These little blue things are not actually berries, but are are fleshy blue-colored cones produced by the members of the juniper family of conifers. If there are any trees or shrubs holding crabapples, cherries, or other fruits in the winter time, robins will find them before warm weather returns in the spring.   



American Robin on tree stump

Robins bring a smile to my face all year long. In the spring I smile when I see the first one searching for worms in the newly-green grass. In the summer I smile when I hear their "cheerily-cheer-up" song in the darkness of pre-dawn. On crisp autumn days I smile as I watch them chasing the few remaining insects while at the same time starting to explore the fruit trees. In the winter I smile as I trudge through the snow, bundled up against the cold, and spot a flock of robins foraging for food in a grove of junipers. If a bird makes you smile that often, how can you not consider it one of your favorites? The American Robin... number two on my list.

My 3rd Favorite Bird



Western Meadowlark

The Western Meadowlark is a handsome-enough bird, with a bright yellow breast and a striking black "V" on its chest. However, it is the bird's song that sets the meadowlark apart from all the other birds in the western prairies. It is a rich, bubbling, gurgling flute-like melody that resonates in the springtime in farms and fields. An old man who grew up on a Nebraska farm told me that as a boy he learned this little ditty, to describe the song of a Western Meadowlark, "Mary climbed the fence and tore her petticoat."  Can't you just imagine farm boys on the way to school reciting that silly little phrase as they hear meadowlarks singing?



Western Meadowlark singing from wire cable

Male Western Meadowlarks will sing for hours from any available prominent perch. They are extremely fond of fence posts, but they will use utility wires, barbed wire, or road signs. Of course in the old days they had to make do with sturdy weed stalks or some other natural perch. 



Western Meadowlark on barbed wire

Western Meadowlarks are found in Western North America, from southern Canada to Mexico, and east as far as Michigan and Louisiana. In the east they are replaced by their close relative, the Eastern Meadowlark. The two species are almost identical in appearance, and are best identified by song. The song of the Eastern Meadowlark, though pretty in its own way, does not compare to that of the Western Meadowlark. Meriwether Lewis is credited with first identifying the Western Meadowlark. On June 22, 1805, he wrote, "There is a kind of larke here that much resembles the bird called the oldfield lark [Eastern Meadowlark] with a yellow breast and a black spot on the croop... the beak is somewhat longer and more curved and the note differs considerably."  



Juvenile Western Meadowlark

Six states have made the Western Meadowlark their official state bird: Oregon, Montana, Wyoming, Kansas, Nebraska, and North Dakota. These birds are lovely to look at; they grace us with beautiful songs and they are recognized with high honor and respect throughout the country. For me, what really separates them from other birds is the anticipation with which I look forward to the sight of my first meadowlark sometime in late March. I go out searching for them along country roads; I long to see and hear them! True heralds of spring, Western Meadowlarks simply make me happy. That is why they have a high place of honor on my favorite bird list.

My 4th Favorite Bird

Blue Jay

One spring morning when I was a boy, two noisy blue and white birds landed in our backyard. My mother said they were Blue Jays. Then Mom, who never in her life had a bad thing to say about any living creature, told me they are, "kind of bad birds." She was referring to their bossy, aggressive demeanor, and their reputation for eating the eggs and nestlings of other birds. Mom never cared much for Blue Jays, but... well, Mom, I can't help myself... they are one of my favorite birds!

Blue Jays love peanuts

Blue Jays seem to be always in motion. They constantly call out with their signature cries of, "Jaay, jaay!" as they search tirelessly for food. Blue Jays are members of the corvidae family along with ravens, crows, and magpies. Like those other birds, jays are highly visible, and always take charge of any situation. Blue Jays love to mob hawks and owls. If you hear a flock of Blue Jays screaming loudly in the woods, you can often find them chasing away a raptor much larger than themselves. 



Blue Jays love to eat

Blue Jays are known to cache food for later use. Whenever food is available they will make countless trips back and forth to their hiding places until the feeders are empty. They eat almost anything, and will try out any type of feeder. Blue Jays are particularly fond of peanuts. If a group of Blue Jays appears, it is fun to set them off by tossing a handful of peanuts onto the deck and sitting back to watch the action!

Blue Jays will eat almost anything -- including suet

Bold, noisy, aggressive, bossy... are there any more adjectives to describe Blue Jays? Yes. Absolutely beautiful! Adorned in blue, black and white, with a jaunty crest and a mischievous twinkle in their eyes, these birds are eye-catching and appealing. In spite of my mother's warning, I fell in love with the Blue Jay as a boy, and I'm not going to change now. Blue Jays are number four on my list of favorite birds.  

My 5th Favorite Bird



Northern Cardinal

Northern Cardinals are beautiful birds. The intensity of the male's bright red plumage in a tree or at a feeder is startling. It is not just the crimson hue of this bird that makes us stop and stare, however. Look at that incredible crest, the enormous cone-shaped red bill, and the black face mask. There is no other bird in North America with a more unique combination of form and coloration. 



Male Northern Cardinal at black oil sunflower feeder

Once considered strictly a southern bird, the cardinal has been gradually moving north and west over the last century. It is believed that this range expansion has been due to factors related to habitat and food supply. The settlement of North America led to the clearing of forests and the creation of cities and towns. While these changes were harmful to some species of birds, they were beneficial to the Northern Cardinal. Cardinals thrive in the more open environment amid the ornamental plantings of trees and shrubs in modern America.



Female Northern Cardinal with black oil sunflower seed

The societal change that may have had the greatest impact on the Northern Cardinal is the relatively recent phenomenon of backyard bird feeding. Cardinals love to come to bird feeders, especially if they are stocked with black oil sunflower seeds. The abundance of an easy food supply at feeding stations throughout the continent allows cardinals to survive winters far to the north of where the birds were seen in the 18th and 19th centuries.

Northern Cardinal, Cardinalis cardinalis

I am often asked why this formerly southern bird is called Northern Cardinal. Is there a Southern Cardinal? The answer is, "well, yes-- sort of."  The Northern Cardinal's Latin name is Cardinalis cardinalis, and it has a close relative, the Pyrrhuloxia, Cardinalis sinuatus, which is found in the southwestern U.S. Whether we call this bird Northern Cardinal, Cardinalis cardinalis, or just redbird, the wonderful cardinal is one of the most beloved of all wild creatures.

My 6th Favorite Bird

Western Tanager
(Photo by Paul O. Roisen)

The year was 2005; the month was June; the place was Grand Lake, Colorado. My wife and I were sitting on the veranda of a beautiful old lodge waiting for the restaurant to open. Bird feeders hung from the rustic beams, and we had been watching the antics of a Clark's Nutcracker trying to balance itself on the small feeder. The nutcracker flew off, and we momentarily glanced away from the feeder. When we looked back, a new bird had appeared. It took our breath away.



Western Tanager, a "feathered sunset"

There, nibbling suet, was a bird that we later described as, a "feathered sunset." Though neither of us had ever seen one, I recognized it instantly as the cover bird of one of my favorite bird books. I whispered to my wife, "It's a Western Tanager." We sat for several long minutes just a few feet away from this enchanting bird. We had a delicious meal, saw spectacular scenery, and beheld a gorgeous Colorado sunset. Yet, all we could talk about was that incredible bird.  

Western Tanager

Western Tanagers are members of a large group of birds that gets its family name from tanagra, the name given these birds by the Tupi tribe of the Amazon basin. The Western Tanager is one of four Tanager species that migrates as far north as the United States. They breed in western North America, from northern Mexico to the Yukon Territory.

Western Tanager

Since that first experience with a Western Tanager six years ago I have had only two additional encounters with this bird. I had a brief glimpse of one in 2008 in Rocky Mountain National Park. In May of this year I saw a Western Tanager perched for several minutes on a utility wire in the Black Hills of South Dakota, and was able to get the photos you see here.  In considering which birds to place on my top ten list, I kept coming back to the "feathered sunset" and that magical night in Colorado. Western Tanager has ended up firmly on the list at number six.