Friday Field Notes: Winter Birding

The osprey are on winter break in the Bahamas, and the warblers are even further south, soaking up the sun and warm temperatures of central America. As for us? Well, we are faced with the reality of our first significant snow storm of the year in Montana. Winter is long and cold in our great state, and that's why many of the more than 300 avian species that call Montana home for part of the year pack their bags and hit the road (or should I say the airways?). Despite this, winter can still be an incredible time to go birding. Here are some tips to help get you through the cold, snowy months ahead:

- Put out a feeder! The bears are just about gone, and birds are now having to look harder to find critical winter food sources. Once one bird finds your feeder, they all do, and they will stay as long as you keep it filled. Platform feeders are a fantastic option - they attract a wide range of birds, from chickadees to grosbeaks, and they provide an excellent opportunity to get a close-up look at the bird.

- Go for a walk in an area with lots of deciduous trees. Birders often joke during spring migration, "If only those darn leaves didn't get in the way of the birds!" Well, now that the leaves have fallen off the trees, they don't. Brilliant, colorful birds like Evening Grosbeaks, Cedar Waxwings, and House Finches who spend much of their time in trees and shrubs are now strikingly obvious, and the views are unobstructed.

- Don't forget about water. The rich, diverse riparian habitat that lines our streams and rivers and attracts dozens of species in the spring and summer is still filled with birds in the winter. Iconic birds like American Dippers, Great Blue Herons, and Bald Eagles never leave, and winter can be as good a time as any to view them.

- When the snow rolls in, so do the birds. Significant snow storms push birds that typically spend their time at higher elevations (Clark's Nutcrackers, Steller's Jays, and Gray Jays, among others) lower into valleys. Additionally, the snow-covered ground makes it difficult for seed-eating birds (finches, sparrows) to find the food they need. Suddenly, your feeder becomes a wild bird refuge!

A flock of Evening Grosbeaks weathers a storm.

An Evening Grosbeak

What are your winter birding tips?  What birds have you been seeing?  Share your observations in the comments!

Friday Field Notes: Election Edition

As election season "bears" down on us and Americans head to the polls to cast their votes, it can seem as if the weight of the world is suspended above us, hanging by a tiny thread. To cut this tension, ease the panic, and introduce some comic relief, I give you this:

A Naturalist's Interpretation of Election Season

DISCLAIMER: What follows is incredibly cheesy humor that only a naturalist will find even remotely amusing. There is absolutely nothing political about this cartoon whatsoever--just some chuckles for nature nerds like me!

Friday Field Notes: Who's Watching Hoooo(m)?

Have you ever had the experience of coming face to face with an owl?

Incredible birds for a variety of reasons, including their elusive nature, adept hunting skills, and haunting calls, owls have long captured the human imagination. Stories about owls have been passed down for thousands of years in numerous cultures, and even today we assign them meaning (mystery, cunning, wisdom) and relate to them in profound ways.

What I have been most touched by, however, is the way in which owls seem to gaze back at us with the same intent with which we look upon them. The thrill of seeing a bear or moose or eagle is undeniable, but these animals often do little more than acknowledge our presence before dismissing us as a non-threat and moving on to whatever they were doing before we disturbed them. Owls, by comparison, appear to stare directly at us, appear to be going through a series of complex thoughts and judgements. I have sometimes felt as if the bird is actually peering directly into my soul. Sure, many animals display extreme senses of curiosity (especially American Martens), but owls are doing more than checking out what we're up to; they're breaking us down and sizing us up. Maybe I am anthropomorphizing a bit too much; but maybe owls are even more intelligent and complex than we give them credit for.

A Great Gray Owl sizing me up.

I am led to believe that owls watch and study us in ways most other animals do not, ways that we do not truly understand. This places us in unusual position, one in which many people would not be comfortable:  as humans, we are usually the ones placing other animals under the microscope, not vice versa. So the experience of coming face to face with an owl (especially a large one) can be fairly humbling and eye-opening.

A Snowy Owl checking me out from a somewhat unusual vantage point: a roof.

Standing eye-to-eye with an owl stirs up ancient and primal emotions, transporting us to times when we were a bit closer to the world around us. It forces us to re-evaluate our assumptions about nature. It poses much larger questions, none more relevant than: Who's watching whom?

Friday Field Notes: Photo Essay: Fall in Montana

With colors of red, orange, and gold everywhere and the cool, rainy weather bearing down on us, it is evident that things are changing. Long gone are the warm temperatures and sweet (and smoky) smells of summer. It appears that sooner, rather than later, we will be immersed in a world of white. But for now, we can revel in the fact that it is Fall in Montana.

The icy cold waters of Avalanche Creek in Glacier National Park
continue to carve through ancient rock.

Aspens paint the hillsides gold near East Glacier.

A grizzly print high in the Absarokas, an indication that these creatures are moving up in elevation
to feed on critical fall food sources like whitebark pine seeds.

Rattlesnake Creek takes on many moods on an overcast day.

Much-needed moisture relieves the strain of a hot, dry summer throughout the West.

Sunlight slices through storm clouds to pit a shimmering aspen
against the backdrop of an ominous sky.

Red meets gold in the understory of the subalpine forest.

A beaver works diligently to ensure all is in place before yet another make-or-break winter arrives.

The sight of snow atop rocky peaks reminds us that winter is never too far away.

A group of American Coots gather on Lake McDonald as they prepare for winter.

Stuart Peak Saturday Venture

Stuart Peak long held its spot at Number 4 on my “Day Hikes to Conquer” list.  So, this past Saturday while several Missoulians cheered for the Griz to win, I packed up my dogs and headed into the Rattlesnake for what was to be an adventurous and rewarding journey.

To my surprise the trailhead was packed with cars at 8 a.m., but I did not see a soul until the descent.  The trek to Stuart peak begins a half-mile off of the main Rattlesnake Trailhead and meanders along Spring Gulch for about three miles.  The dogs were gallivanting around the woods and I was thinking this was the best Saturday morning activity I had done in awhile.  Rain dripped from the leaves, creating a very mystical ambiance.  The forest always seems somewhat magical when blanketed with fog and heavy with water. 

After making my way up Spring Gulch, I followed the trail as it wound its way around a mountainside.  I have been told that one can see a large portion of the Rattlesnake and Missoula, but the thick layer of clouds prohibited such views. Up, up, up, I went and continued to be enveloped in fog and rain.  I will note here that the majestic, magical quality I mentioned before now took on a whole new meaning as I was pelted with hail brought over from the relentless eastern wind.  Regardless of the changing weather conditions, I continued following my dogs, who were still having the times of their lives despite being soaking wet.

At last I reached the wilderness boundary, where hastily I took a photo and continued onward.  I hiked for about two more miles until my spirits were tested.  There is no direct path up to Stuart Peak, so navigating up the side of the mountain is something you should know you are going to do before beginning.  I slowly conquered the steep climb up to the peak and was blown away by the vie--or lack thereof, in this case.  On a cloudless day, Stuart Peak affords a hiker the view of the adjacent peaks and the Missoula valley, but on a day such as this, it looks like you are the only person left in the world.  As far as I could see there was nothing but clouds.  Twenty feet below the peak, clouds crept in and covered everything.  While seeing the landscape would have been breathtaking, being atop a landscape of clouds was breathtaking in its own right. 

Overall, I am overjoyed to have made the 18-mile hike to Stuart Peak and back.  I began my trek at 8 a.m. and was back in Missoula by 3.  Yet, I am none too eager to cross Stuart Peak off my list--instead I am moving it to Number 9 and saving it for a cloudless, sunny day in the future.

Friday Field Notes

The beautiful weather of late has kept me from dragging winter clothes out from the depths of my closet, and has instead forced me to continue enjoying what nature has to offer. Here's some notes, observations, and photographs from a recent trip up to Glacier National Park:

Colors across the spectrum.

Color

Fall foliage is really starting to take off. The aspens (Populus tremuloides) are shimmering gold, or are quite close to it. Plants of the understory, such as grouse whortleberry (Vaccinium scoparium) and huckleberry (Vaccinium membranaceum), fill the hillsides with shades of red and orange. Contrasted against the rich greens of conifers, the deep grays and purples of the ancient sedimentary cliffs, and the regal blues of Glacier's many alpine lakes, hiking in the park these days is like walking through a dreamland. I don't know that I have ever seen so many colors on display at once!

Bears

If you've ever been to a national park - especially one inhabited by grizzlies - you know how serious the National Park Service is when it comes to bears and safety. This time of year, the message is even more important. As bears prepare for hibernation in late summer and early fall, they enter into hyperphagia, a status literally of excessive hunger and consumption. Feeding primarily on berries, insects, and whitebark pine seeds, bears can easily consume over 15,000 calories per day. The need to constantly find more food and pack on fat leads to bears being particularly active this time of year, and as a result, increases the likelihood of an encounter with a bear. Two days in Glacier yielded three grizzly sightings, one of which was an adult male that essentially popped out of nowhere a mere fifty feet from me while hiking near Bullhead Lake in the Many Glacier valley. The other bears - a sow with her cub of the year - were observed high on a talus slope, likely digging through rocks for moths and other insects. So, to steal a line from the NPS, "Be Bear Aware" if you head out into the hills this fall.

Other Critters Abound

So you're a devoted birder and have read the passage in your Sibley Guide to Western Birds where it says golden eagles (Aquila chrysaetos) nest on rocky cliffs in mountainous areas, but you've only ever seen them on the plains or near agricultural fields. Well, that was me. Until this past weekend, when I managed to spot one soaring high near Swiftcurrent Pass, later coming to a roost on a cliff no more than one-hundred yards from the trail, allowing for a great look through binoculars. A few lucky people might get to see these massive raptors harassing young goats and sheep in an attempt to drive them off cliffs, a fascinating hunting strategy, unless you're the goat.

A young goat, not at all disturbed by my presence

Speaking of goats, there was no shortage of these fuzzy white critters in Glacier. On the Highline Trail near Logan Pass, I was lucky enough to see a ewe and her kid, as well as a lone goat up close and personal (seen to the left). Admittedly, I was a bit more excited than many of you likely are when you see a mountain goat, as this was my first time! Along with all the goats, there was a somewhat uncommon sighting of a bighorn sheep. I've seen sheep before in Wyoming as well as Montana, but this was a vintage scene: high up on a narrow ledge, traversing across loose rock, totally poised (I wish I could move across the side of a mountain like that!). It's observations like these that make you fully appreciate and understand how life has evolved to survive in some of the most challenging landscapes.


Solitude

Perhaps this photo best sums up the weekend...

Tranquility, stillness, and solitude are just some of the words that come to my mind when reflecting upon this scene. The national parks are infamous for their crowds in the height of summer, but fall is a splendid time to be gazing upon Saint Mary Lake. The hordes of people common in July and August are long gone, and one can truly experience some peace and quiet in one the most beautiful places on Earth. To be able to leave city life and the worries of graduate school behind and escape to Glacier is truly a privilege. As Montanans, we should embrace the parks, forests, wilderness, and other natural areas we have right in our backyards - the opportunities for reflection and recreation they afford us are invaluable.

I hope that you too will be able to experience Glacier or another wild place this fall. In case you can't make it out, I'll leave you with a few more photos in an attempt to share the experience! (Photos after the jump).

Friday Field Notes

"What? In Montana?!"

We expect that this will be the reaction of many of you to learning that a Scissor-tailed Flycatcher (Tyrannus forficatus) has been making its rounds in eastern Montana. This elegant, long-tailed bird, a member of the Tyrant Flycatcher family (better known around Montana for species such as the Western Wood-Peewee or Olive-sided Flycatcher), has been seen a number of times by birders near Pompey's Pillar National Monument in the past week. According to Montana Field Guide, the state's official database of species information and observations, there have only been 15 recorded observations of Scissor-tailed Flycatcher's in Montana!

Scissor-tailed Flycatcher. Pretty--and pretty weird in Montana.

The bird, whose summer breeding range is limited primarily to Texas and Oklahoma, is notorious for wandering far from its traditional range. With a body similar in size to an American Robin, its forked tail essentially doubles the bird's overall length. Scissor-tailed Flycatchers primarily use open, grassland habitats, including roadsides and agricultural lands. They are often seen perched on fence posts or power lines, scanning the ground for grasshoppers and crickets.

With migration season in full swing, this bird should be well on its way south towards Central America, making its appearance in Montana even more unusual. For birders and naturalists alike, this could be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to see a spectacular southern bird in our home state. So if you're around Billings this weekend and have a pair of binoculars, be sure to look for a Scissor-tailed Flycatcher. And if you should see it, be sure to let us know!

Happy Birding!