Lark sparrows are summer residents of the American Midwest, Great Plains and Great Basin; found primarily west of the Mississippi River, their range extends into southern Canada, across eastern portions of the Pacific Northwest and throughout lower elevations of California. During the colder months, they head for the Desert Southwest, South Texas, the Gulf Coast region, Mexico and Central America.
The only member of their Genus, lark sparrows sport a striking facial pattern of white, black and chestnut-brown stripes, a white breast with a central black spot and a white edge at the end of their long tail; the latter edge, thicker laterally than centrally, is a good field mark for novice birders. These handsome sparrows favor open grasslands with scattered shrubs or trees and are often found along country roads where they scour the gravel for insects and seeds. When threatened, they often escape to dense vegetation rather than taking flight.
Lark sparrows seem to be more abundant at Eagle Bluffs Conservation Area (in central Missouri) this year but this may merely reflect a personal familiarity with these grassland birds that inhabit both of my home States. Regardless, it's always good to see them as spring turns to summer.
Showing posts with label refuges. Show all posts
Showing posts with label refuges. Show all posts
Sunday, 12 June 2016
Thursday, 9 June 2016
A Stranded Duckling
Over the past two decades, I have made hundreds of visits to Eagle Bluffs Conservation Area, in Central Missouri, and have never failed to be inspired by its beautiful landscape and superb diversity of wildlife. But nature offers both beauty and tragedy and, this morning, I was dismayed to observe a stranded duckling, swimming along the marshy edge of a floodplain pool.
The young wood duck may have prematurely left its nest box; however, he appeared well-developed and his siblings would surely have followed. Perhaps he became separated from his mother and her brood but wood duck moms are very attentive. This leaves the possibility that his mother was killed and that he is the sole survivor of her brood, the others picked off by water snakes, snapping turtles, great blue herons, mink, coyotes or bald eagles.
Few animals are as cute as a duckling and many humans would be inclined to rescue this youngster. Naturalists, however, understand that it is best to minimize our impact on nature and that her cycle of life includes the death of young creatures. A stranded duckling, sure to die without the guidance of his mother, is vital to this fabulous ecosystem, as important as the majestic eagles that survey its realm.
The young wood duck may have prematurely left its nest box; however, he appeared well-developed and his siblings would surely have followed. Perhaps he became separated from his mother and her brood but wood duck moms are very attentive. This leaves the possibility that his mother was killed and that he is the sole survivor of her brood, the others picked off by water snakes, snapping turtles, great blue herons, mink, coyotes or bald eagles.
Few animals are as cute as a duckling and many humans would be inclined to rescue this youngster. Naturalists, however, understand that it is best to minimize our impact on nature and that her cycle of life includes the death of young creatures. A stranded duckling, sure to die without the guidance of his mother, is vital to this fabulous ecosystem, as important as the majestic eagles that survey its realm.
Tuesday, 7 June 2016
The Other Oriole
On this cool, sunny morning, an excellent variety of birds were moving about Eagle Bluffs Conservation Area, on the Missouri River floodplain; within 2 hours, I had observed 43 species. Among these were a fair number of orchard orioles, the first I have seen this year.
Unlike their well-known Baltimore cousin, the male orchard oriole sports dark, rust-colored plumage, set off by a black head, chest, tail and wings. Though a fairly common summer resident throughout the central and eastern U.S., it does not generally arrive until late spring and often leaves for wintering grounds (in Central and northern South America) by August. Like most orioles, orchard orioles build a pouch-like nest that is suspended from a forked, distal limb of a shade tree; unlike most species, it is a colonial nester, often tolerating the close presence of other birds as well.
Orchard orioles prefer open woodlands, especially along streams. While their name suggests a fondness for fruit, they feed primarily on insects during the summer months, snaring prey from vegetation or directing from the ground. They do supplement their diet with berries, however, and, on their wintering grounds, consume the flowers and nectar of some tropical plants, playing a significant role in their pollination.
Unlike their well-known Baltimore cousin, the male orchard oriole sports dark, rust-colored plumage, set off by a black head, chest, tail and wings. Though a fairly common summer resident throughout the central and eastern U.S., it does not generally arrive until late spring and often leaves for wintering grounds (in Central and northern South America) by August. Like most orioles, orchard orioles build a pouch-like nest that is suspended from a forked, distal limb of a shade tree; unlike most species, it is a colonial nester, often tolerating the close presence of other birds as well.
Orchard orioles prefer open woodlands, especially along streams. While their name suggests a fondness for fruit, they feed primarily on insects during the summer months, snaring prey from vegetation or directing from the ground. They do supplement their diet with berries, however, and, on their wintering grounds, consume the flowers and nectar of some tropical plants, playing a significant role in their pollination.
Sunday, 5 June 2016
Glacial Lake Modoc
During the cool, wet climate of the Pleistocene, a large lake formed east of the Cascades in southern Oregon and northeastern California. Known today as Glacial Lake Modoc, it had a surface area of 1100 square miles; its surface was 100 feet higher than that of Upper Klamath Lake, its largest remnant. Tule Lake and Lower Klamath Lake and their adjacent wetlands are also remnants of Lake Modoc, which extended eastward along the Lost River Valley and northward along the Wood, Williamson and Sprague Rivers that now feed Upper Klamath Lake.
Current geologic evidence suggests that the Upper Klamath Basin formed as a vast graben, divided by north-south trending fault-block ridges. Glacial meltwater from the Cascades balanced outflow through the Klamath River which carved a spectacular canyon through the Northern Coastal Ranges of California to reach the Pacific.
Toward the end of the Pleistocene, as the climate warmed, the mountain glaciers retreated, inflow to Lake Modoc diminished and the lake level fell, exposing vast wetlands between the remnant lakes. Of course, once European settlers colonized the region, wetlands were drained, rivers were dammed and tributaries were diverted for irrigation, producing the landscape that we find today. Fortunately, some recovery has occurred with the establishment of the Lower Klamath, Tule Lake and Clear Lake National Wildlife Refuges and spectacular congregations of migrant waterfowl and shorebirds still visit the Basin.
Current geologic evidence suggests that the Upper Klamath Basin formed as a vast graben, divided by north-south trending fault-block ridges. Glacial meltwater from the Cascades balanced outflow through the Klamath River which carved a spectacular canyon through the Northern Coastal Ranges of California to reach the Pacific.
Toward the end of the Pleistocene, as the climate warmed, the mountain glaciers retreated, inflow to Lake Modoc diminished and the lake level fell, exposing vast wetlands between the remnant lakes. Of course, once European settlers colonized the region, wetlands were drained, rivers were dammed and tributaries were diverted for irrigation, producing the landscape that we find today. Fortunately, some recovery has occurred with the establishment of the Lower Klamath, Tule Lake and Clear Lake National Wildlife Refuges and spectacular congregations of migrant waterfowl and shorebirds still visit the Basin.
Sunday, 29 May 2016
Dickcissel Days at Eagle Bluffs
Driving through Eagle Bluffs Conservation Area this morning, it was clear that the transition from spring migrants to summer residents is well advanced. Waterfowl were limited to Canada geese, wood ducks, a small flock of blue-winged teal and a few mallards; shorebirds, recently represented by large, mixed flocks are now limited to killdeer and spotted sandpipers.
With the exception of great blue herons, indigo buntings and the ubiquitous red-winged blackbirds, dickcissels were the most conspicuous birds this morning, delivering their distinctive song from the tops of reeds or shrubs; favoring open grasslands, pastures and weedy fields, these vocal, sparrow-like birds have recently arrived from wintering grounds in Central and South America. They feast on both insects and seeds and will soon pair off and build a nest in the tall grass; 4-6 eggs are generally laid.
As the summer heat builds, dickcissels and other open country birds will dominate the scene as woodland species retreat to the cool shade of forests or riparian groves; already, these tree-dwelling birds are heard more than seen, active behind a dense canopy of leaves. Throughout the summer months, those hoping to see these birds must arrive early or late in the day, when solar radiation is less intense and cool air settles across the floodplain.
With the exception of great blue herons, indigo buntings and the ubiquitous red-winged blackbirds, dickcissels were the most conspicuous birds this morning, delivering their distinctive song from the tops of reeds or shrubs; favoring open grasslands, pastures and weedy fields, these vocal, sparrow-like birds have recently arrived from wintering grounds in Central and South America. They feast on both insects and seeds and will soon pair off and build a nest in the tall grass; 4-6 eggs are generally laid.
As the summer heat builds, dickcissels and other open country birds will dominate the scene as woodland species retreat to the cool shade of forests or riparian groves; already, these tree-dwelling birds are heard more than seen, active behind a dense canopy of leaves. Throughout the summer months, those hoping to see these birds must arrive early or late in the day, when solar radiation is less intense and cool air settles across the floodplain.
Monday, 23 May 2016
A Plumbeous Vireo
During an otherwise unremarkable visit to South Platte Park this morning, I encountered a plumbeous vireo, hunting in shrubs west of Eaglewatch Lake. Previously grouped with other vireo species under the title "solitary vireo," this gray and white songbird is now classified as a unique species; like all prior members of the group, it has prominent white "spectacles."
Plumbeous vireos breed along the Southern Rockies, from Colorado to Mexico, and across most of the Great Basin. Primarily insectivores, they move rather slowly among the branches of trees and shrubs, snaring prey from the vegetation; berries are also consumed during the winter months when these songbirds head to coastal regions of Mexico and woodlands of Central America.
True to its former name, this morning's visitor, on his way to mountain forests, was alone. Unlike many warblers and vireos, his feeding activity was unhurried and methodical, making identification easy in the bright Colorado sunshine. Perhaps he'll stop by again when chilly September nights invade the Rockies.
Plumbeous vireos breed along the Southern Rockies, from Colorado to Mexico, and across most of the Great Basin. Primarily insectivores, they move rather slowly among the branches of trees and shrubs, snaring prey from the vegetation; berries are also consumed during the winter months when these songbirds head to coastal regions of Mexico and woodlands of Central America.
True to its former name, this morning's visitor, on his way to mountain forests, was alone. Unlike many warblers and vireos, his feeding activity was unhurried and methodical, making identification easy in the bright Colorado sunshine. Perhaps he'll stop by again when chilly September nights invade the Rockies.
Saturday, 21 May 2016
Visitor from the Desert Southwest
On my usual birding walk at South Platte Park this morning, sightings were unremarkable except for a large number of yellow warblers and the presence of an ash-throated flycatcher. The latter bird, rare along the Colorado Front Range, is a summer resident of the Desert Southwest, from western Colorado to California and from the northern Great Basin to Mexico.
Unlike most flycatchers, ash-throats generally snare their prey from foliage or directly on the ground; large insects, such as beetles and grasshoppers, are favored but they also consume berries and small lizards. Nests are placed in the cavities of trees, fenceposts or nest boxes and two broods are raised each year. Wandering widely during migrations, ash-throated flycatchers sometimes turn up on the East Coast; most winter in coastal regions of Mexico and Central America.
This morning's visitor was feeding on a wooded hillside, west of Eaglewatch Lake; on their home summer range, they are best found in pinyon-juniper or mesquite woodlands, along desert streams or in the canyons of desert ranges. Adapting well to human habitation, ash-throated flycatchers are gradually expanding their territory and may soon be more common along the Front Range.
Unlike most flycatchers, ash-throats generally snare their prey from foliage or directly on the ground; large insects, such as beetles and grasshoppers, are favored but they also consume berries and small lizards. Nests are placed in the cavities of trees, fenceposts or nest boxes and two broods are raised each year. Wandering widely during migrations, ash-throated flycatchers sometimes turn up on the East Coast; most winter in coastal regions of Mexico and Central America.
This morning's visitor was feeding on a wooded hillside, west of Eaglewatch Lake; on their home summer range, they are best found in pinyon-juniper or mesquite woodlands, along desert streams or in the canyons of desert ranges. Adapting well to human habitation, ash-throated flycatchers are gradually expanding their territory and may soon be more common along the Front Range.
Friday, 20 May 2016
The White-tailed Kite
One of the highlights of our recent trip to California was our first sighting of a white-tailed kite, at Humboldt Bay National Wildlife Refuge, just south of Eureka. Perched in a small grove of trees amidst an extensive wetland, the kite resembled a snowy owl (though out of place and out of season).
White-tailed kites are permanent residents of wooded grasslands and marshlands along the Pacific Coast (from Oregon to Baja), in southern Texas, in southernmost Florida and throughout Mexico, Central America and South America. Formerly known as the black-shouldered kite, this light-colored raptor often hovers while hunting; small rodents are its favored prey but it also consumes snakes, lizards, frogs and large insects. Breeding pairs generally produce four offspring each year and the population and range of these beautiful predators appears to be expanding.
It's one thing for a seasoned birder to discover a new life species by patiently stalking small songbirds in dense vegetation and quite another to be confronted by a theretofore unseen raptor, sitting in the open for all to see. It was as if nature was extending a gift, a reward of sorts for years of enduring stiff necks, cold feet, insect bites and other maladies common to birders. The gift was sincerely appreciated.
White-tailed kites are permanent residents of wooded grasslands and marshlands along the Pacific Coast (from Oregon to Baja), in southern Texas, in southernmost Florida and throughout Mexico, Central America and South America. Formerly known as the black-shouldered kite, this light-colored raptor often hovers while hunting; small rodents are its favored prey but it also consumes snakes, lizards, frogs and large insects. Breeding pairs generally produce four offspring each year and the population and range of these beautiful predators appears to be expanding.
It's one thing for a seasoned birder to discover a new life species by patiently stalking small songbirds in dense vegetation and quite another to be confronted by a theretofore unseen raptor, sitting in the open for all to see. It was as if nature was extending a gift, a reward of sorts for years of enduring stiff necks, cold feet, insect bites and other maladies common to birders. The gift was sincerely appreciated.
Wednesday, 18 May 2016
Through Riverless Terrain
Leaving Ely, Nevada, this morning, we headed east on US 50; our first stop was Great Basin National Park, in the Snake Range, just west of the Utah Border; details regarding the Park are provided in the linked post. Today, a deep snow pack closed the Wheeler Peak road at Mather Overlook (just above 9000 feet) but we enjoyed broad views of the Park and adjacent landscape. We then took a hike along South Baker Creek before setting out across the beautiful but arid lands of the Great Basin.
One of the highlights of that journey was the vast but dry bed of Sevier Lake; filled to the brim during the cool, wet climate of the Pleistocene, the lake is now a sink, fed by the fickle flow of several basin rivers that have been mostly dammed or diverted. After crossing Interstate 15, we climbed along US 50 to merge with Interstate 70 and then crossed the massive hump of the Wasatch Plateau; beyond this high ridge the highway winds through some of the most scenic topography in North America (if not on the planet) where eroded beds of late Paleozoic and Mesozoic sedimentary rocks line the road. After dropping through the Waterpocket Fold, we crossed the Green River, completing our loop through Utah, Nevada and California.
Looking down at that River, it occurred to me that this tributary of the Colorado was the first stream of any size that we had crossed since leaving Mono Lake; indeed, the West Fork of the Walker River, north of that lake was the last river that I had encountered. Such is the nature of the Great Basin: two days of driving through magnificent but riverless terrain.
One of the highlights of that journey was the vast but dry bed of Sevier Lake; filled to the brim during the cool, wet climate of the Pleistocene, the lake is now a sink, fed by the fickle flow of several basin rivers that have been mostly dammed or diverted. After crossing Interstate 15, we climbed along US 50 to merge with Interstate 70 and then crossed the massive hump of the Wasatch Plateau; beyond this high ridge the highway winds through some of the most scenic topography in North America (if not on the planet) where eroded beds of late Paleozoic and Mesozoic sedimentary rocks line the road. After dropping through the Waterpocket Fold, we crossed the Green River, completing our loop through Utah, Nevada and California.
Looking down at that River, it occurred to me that this tributary of the Colorado was the first stream of any size that we had crossed since leaving Mono Lake; indeed, the West Fork of the Walker River, north of that lake was the last river that I had encountered. Such is the nature of the Great Basin: two days of driving through magnificent but riverless terrain.
Tuesday, 17 May 2016
Back in the Basin
Since the high passes through the Sierra Nevada remain closed due to a heavy snowpack, downed trees and rock slides, we backtracked to U.S. 50 last evening and spent the night in Carson City, Nevada. This morning, we traveled south on Route 395, along the eastern base of the mountains, headed for Mono Lake; approaching that famous remnant of the Pleistocene, we re-entered California, ascended along the West Fork of the Walker River, descended into the basin of Bridgeport Reservoir and then climbed onto the northern rim of the Mono Lake basin where we enjoyed a fabulous panorama of the lake and its surroundings. For more details on the lake and its history, see the above link.
Stopping at the Visitor Center and three public access sites along the edge of the lake, we explored the tufa (calcium carbonate) formations and surveyed the open waters where thousands of eared grebes fed on brine shrimp; during the autumn migration, up to 1.8 million of these diving birds stop to rest and feed on Mono Lake. Two pair of ospreys are currently nesting on the tufa formations but must travel to other regional lakes to catch fish, which cannot survive in the alkaline waters of Mono. Other sightings included hundreds of California gulls and a single pair of ruddy ducks; according to local birders that we met, avocets, black-necked stilts and phalaropes, regular migrants and summer residents at Mono Lake, have not yet arrived.
Heading east across the Great Basin, we passed the northern end of the magnificent White Mountains; Boundary Peak, the highest point in Nevada, is at the northeast end of that Range. Continuing along U.S. 6, we crossed the stark beauty of of central Nevada; the highlight proved to be the broad, scenic Railroad Valley, southwest of Ely, where Blue Eagle Peak rises along its eastern rim and Currant Mountain anchors its northern end. After a night in Ely, we plan to visit Great Basin National Park and then head for Colorado.
Stopping at the Visitor Center and three public access sites along the edge of the lake, we explored the tufa (calcium carbonate) formations and surveyed the open waters where thousands of eared grebes fed on brine shrimp; during the autumn migration, up to 1.8 million of these diving birds stop to rest and feed on Mono Lake. Two pair of ospreys are currently nesting on the tufa formations but must travel to other regional lakes to catch fish, which cannot survive in the alkaline waters of Mono. Other sightings included hundreds of California gulls and a single pair of ruddy ducks; according to local birders that we met, avocets, black-necked stilts and phalaropes, regular migrants and summer residents at Mono Lake, have not yet arrived.
Heading east across the Great Basin, we passed the northern end of the magnificent White Mountains; Boundary Peak, the highest point in Nevada, is at the northeast end of that Range. Continuing along U.S. 6, we crossed the stark beauty of of central Nevada; the highlight proved to be the broad, scenic Railroad Valley, southwest of Ely, where Blue Eagle Peak rises along its eastern rim and Currant Mountain anchors its northern end. After a night in Ely, we plan to visit Great Basin National Park and then head for Colorado.
Monday, 16 May 2016
Assault on Yosemite
As we left Oakdale, California, this morning and headed east on Route 120, the high peaks of the Sierra Nevada shimmered across the eastern horizon, partly obscured by clouds. Leaving the flat landscape of the Central Valley, we climbed through hills of grass and oak savanna before ascending more steeply into the Sierra foothills. Charred forest, damaged by wildfire, was soon encountered along the road, extending into western portions of Yosemite National Park.
When we eventually rounded a curve and Half Dome appeared in the distance, I knew that my dream of visiting Yosemite was finally realized. Indeed, the Park's spectacular glacial valley, lined by the granite cliffs of El Capitan, Half Dome, North Dome and other well-known summits, drained by the beautiful Merced River and adorned by Bridal Veil Falls, Yosemite Falls and other magnificent cascades, is one of the more inspiring sites on our planet.
Arriving on a Monday morning in mid May, we hoped to escape the summer crowds that descend on Yosemite and many other National Parks. Alas, the crowds were already there, parked along the roadways, congregating at overlooks and clogging popular trails; we, of course, contributed to the human assault. One wonders if our population has expanded beyond the point where landscapes as grand as Yosemite National Park cannot withstand the onslaught. It seems we must significantly curtail access if we are to protect these natural gems (or even to make them worth visiting).
When we eventually rounded a curve and Half Dome appeared in the distance, I knew that my dream of visiting Yosemite was finally realized. Indeed, the Park's spectacular glacial valley, lined by the granite cliffs of El Capitan, Half Dome, North Dome and other well-known summits, drained by the beautiful Merced River and adorned by Bridal Veil Falls, Yosemite Falls and other magnificent cascades, is one of the more inspiring sites on our planet.
Arriving on a Monday morning in mid May, we hoped to escape the summer crowds that descend on Yosemite and many other National Parks. Alas, the crowds were already there, parked along the roadways, congregating at overlooks and clogging popular trails; we, of course, contributed to the human assault. One wonders if our population has expanded beyond the point where landscapes as grand as Yosemite National Park cannot withstand the onslaught. It seems we must significantly curtail access if we are to protect these natural gems (or even to make them worth visiting).
Sunday, 15 May 2016
Point Reyes National Seashore
Southwest of Petaluma, California, the Coast Range mellows into a chain of grass covered hills, traversed without mind-numbing switch-backs. It was across this scenic landscape that we returned to the Pacific Coast, headed for Point Reyes National Seashore.
More than a peninsula along the California Coast, Point Reyes, like much of Southern California, lies on the Pacific Plate, geologically separated from the North American Plate by the San Andreas Fault; the latter passes below Tomales Bay, the Olema Valley and the Bolinas Lagoon, east of the preserve. Established in 1962, the National Seashore is a mosaic of public and private lands, home to both the Philip Burton Wilderness Area (established in 1976) and a large swath of cattle ranches that date back to the 1850s; it is also home to a herd of tule elk and harbors the Point Reyes Lighthouse, constructed in 1870. Renowned as an excellent site for whale watching, the lighthouse point was our first destination this morning; unfortunately, high winds and choppy seas impaired our effort to observe whales. However, we were entertained by a noisy congregation of elephant seals on Drake Beach and were inspired by spectacular seascapes across the peninsula.
After leaving Point Reyes, we headed for San Francisco, enduring innumerable hairpin turns as we climbed over the Coast Range for a final time. We then traversed the majestic Golden Gate Bridge, clogged with vehicles and walkers alike on this mild, sunny Sunday and headed for famous attractions along the city's waterfront. Though we enjoyed a pleasant meal overlooking the Bay, the congestion of San Francisco was hard to take after a week on the road and we set our sights on Yosemite National Park; after a night in the Great Central Valley, we'll head to the Park tomorrow.
More than a peninsula along the California Coast, Point Reyes, like much of Southern California, lies on the Pacific Plate, geologically separated from the North American Plate by the San Andreas Fault; the latter passes below Tomales Bay, the Olema Valley and the Bolinas Lagoon, east of the preserve. Established in 1962, the National Seashore is a mosaic of public and private lands, home to both the Philip Burton Wilderness Area (established in 1976) and a large swath of cattle ranches that date back to the 1850s; it is also home to a herd of tule elk and harbors the Point Reyes Lighthouse, constructed in 1870. Renowned as an excellent site for whale watching, the lighthouse point was our first destination this morning; unfortunately, high winds and choppy seas impaired our effort to observe whales. However, we were entertained by a noisy congregation of elephant seals on Drake Beach and were inspired by spectacular seascapes across the peninsula.
After leaving Point Reyes, we headed for San Francisco, enduring innumerable hairpin turns as we climbed over the Coast Range for a final time. We then traversed the majestic Golden Gate Bridge, clogged with vehicles and walkers alike on this mild, sunny Sunday and headed for famous attractions along the city's waterfront. Though we enjoyed a pleasant meal overlooking the Bay, the congestion of San Francisco was hard to take after a week on the road and we set our sights on Yosemite National Park; after a night in the Great Central Valley, we'll head to the Park tomorrow.
Friday, 13 May 2016
A Kite, Whales and a Glass Beach
Early this morning, my wife and I visited the Humboldt Bay NWR, just south of Eureka, California. Once a vast saltwater marsh, the basin was later drained for agriculture and has since been restored for the benefit of resident and migrant water birds; riparian woodlands, cattail marshes, sloughs, lakes and tidal flats characterize the preserve. During our visit, we were fortunate to observe a white-tailed kite (formerly known as a black-shouldered kite), a beautiful and common resident of the refuge and a new "lifer" for me; we also encountered black phoebes, California quail and a large flock of marbled godwits.
After our visit to the refuge, we headed south on Route 101, climbing along the scenic valley of the Eel River and its South Fork. We then switched to Route 1, enduring countless hairpin turns as we crossed the Coastal Range. Emerging along the Pacific Coast, our patience was rewarded with spectacular seascapes all the way to Fort Bragg. Nearing that city, we turned into MacKerricher State Park, where we walked out to Seal Point and watched harbor seals as they lounged on the sea stacks or cruised the clear waters beneath the overlook. While observing the seals, my wife noticed "whale spouts" far out to sea; close inspection with my binoculars revealed four humpback whales, identified by the contour of their backs and by their habit of raising their massive flukes as they dove to feed. Needless to say, the sighting of these magnificent cetaceans was one of the highlights of our road trip to date.
But we could not end our day without visiting the "Glass Beach," in Fort Bragg. Once used as a city dump site, the beach was reclaimed by the sea which sorted and recycled the debris, leaving smooth pebbles of glass amidst the shells and sand. Once this beach of glass gained nationwide fame, visitors flocked to the site, walking off with samples of nature's handiwork. As too often characterizes man's relationship with nature, we first abuse her ecosystems and then take advantage of her restorative powers; alas, the glass of Glass Beach is rapidly disappearing.
After our visit to the refuge, we headed south on Route 101, climbing along the scenic valley of the Eel River and its South Fork. We then switched to Route 1, enduring countless hairpin turns as we crossed the Coastal Range. Emerging along the Pacific Coast, our patience was rewarded with spectacular seascapes all the way to Fort Bragg. Nearing that city, we turned into MacKerricher State Park, where we walked out to Seal Point and watched harbor seals as they lounged on the sea stacks or cruised the clear waters beneath the overlook. While observing the seals, my wife noticed "whale spouts" far out to sea; close inspection with my binoculars revealed four humpback whales, identified by the contour of their backs and by their habit of raising their massive flukes as they dove to feed. Needless to say, the sighting of these magnificent cetaceans was one of the highlights of our road trip to date.
But we could not end our day without visiting the "Glass Beach," in Fort Bragg. Once used as a city dump site, the beach was reclaimed by the sea which sorted and recycled the debris, leaving smooth pebbles of glass amidst the shells and sand. Once this beach of glass gained nationwide fame, visitors flocked to the site, walking off with samples of nature's handiwork. As too often characterizes man's relationship with nature, we first abuse her ecosystems and then take advantage of her restorative powers; alas, the glass of Glass Beach is rapidly disappearing.
Thursday, 12 May 2016
The Redwood Coast
The Siskiyou Mountains stretch from southwestern Oregon into northwestern California, separating the watershed of the Rogue River (to their north) from that of the Klamath River (to their south). This morning, we drove northwest from Medford, Oregon, descending through the Rogue River Valley; after crossing the Rogue at Grants Pass, we headed southwest on Route 199, climbing back through its watershed along the Applegate and Illinois Rivers, two of its major tributaries. Passing through the Collier Tunnel, we left the Rogue River watershed and entered that of the Smith River, which drains the southwestern end of the Siskiyous.
Descending along the Middle Fork of the Smith River, we stopped at the Jedediah Smith Redwoods State Park and explored the Stout Grove, one of the more pristine and scenic stands of redwood forest in California; walking among those giants, their shade supporting a rich understory of ferns, one is both inspired and humbled. Moving on to Crescent City, we observed massive seabird colonies (mostly common murres) on Castle Rock and visited Point St. George where we encountered ospreys, black oystercatchers, whimbrels, black scoters, brown pelicans and a host of shorebirds; the highlight was provided by a peregrine falcon that swooped down at close range to snare an unwary sandpiper.
Heading south on Highway 101, we encountered herds of Roosevelt elk, drove through more stands of majestic redwoods and stopped at numerous overlooks to scan the ocean for whales, sea birds and sea lions. While we failed to observe whales on this cool, foggy day, we did find a large colony of noisy pinnipeds, crowding a sea stack near Trinidad. Tomorrow we continue our journey down the California coast.
Descending along the Middle Fork of the Smith River, we stopped at the Jedediah Smith Redwoods State Park and explored the Stout Grove, one of the more pristine and scenic stands of redwood forest in California; walking among those giants, their shade supporting a rich understory of ferns, one is both inspired and humbled. Moving on to Crescent City, we observed massive seabird colonies (mostly common murres) on Castle Rock and visited Point St. George where we encountered ospreys, black oystercatchers, whimbrels, black scoters, brown pelicans and a host of shorebirds; the highlight was provided by a peregrine falcon that swooped down at close range to snare an unwary sandpiper.
Heading south on Highway 101, we encountered herds of Roosevelt elk, drove through more stands of majestic redwoods and stopped at numerous overlooks to scan the ocean for whales, sea birds and sea lions. While we failed to observe whales on this cool, foggy day, we did find a large colony of noisy pinnipeds, crowding a sea stack near Trinidad. Tomorrow we continue our journey down the California coast.
Wednesday, 11 May 2016
Exploring Volcanic California
Yesterday morning, we left Lake Tahoe and drove north on Route 89, undulating across the east flank of the Sierra Nevada; initially, all streams (including the scenic Little Truckee River) rumbled eastward, flowing into the Great Basin. Then, about an hour into our journey, we crossed a fork of the Feather River; its flow was to the west, indicating that we had reached the gap between the Sierra Nevada Range and the Cascades. After lunch in Quincy, California, we climbed along Indian Creek and then Wolf Creek, eventually reaching Lake Almanor, east of Lassen Peak.
Though we had planned to hike at Lassen National Park, we soon learned that the Park road was closed due to a heavy snowpack. We thus visited McArthur-Burney Falls Memorial State Park, off Route 89; there we enjoyed the scenic falls and hiked through a gorge of volcanic basalt. Another detour, resulting from a snow-blocked National Forest road, sent us westward, where we circled the majestic cone of Mt. Shasta. Angling northeast on Route 97, we then crossed tule marshes and the Butte Valley Grasslands, passed through Klamath Falls, Oregon, and dipped back into California, spending the night in Tulelake.
This morning, we visited the fabulous Tule Lake NWR, where we encountered American white pelicans, western grebes, eared grebes, bald eagles, a few sandhill cranes, cormorants, various terns and a wide variety of waterfowl (including cinnamon teal). We then visited Lava Beds National Monument, just northeast of the dormant Medicine Lake volcano, where we explored basalt flows and lava tubes. Finally, we passed through Lower Klamath NWR (where avocets were especially abundant) and drove west to Medford, Oregon, dropping through the scenic Siskiyou Mountains en route. Tomorrow we head for the California Coast.
Though we had planned to hike at Lassen National Park, we soon learned that the Park road was closed due to a heavy snowpack. We thus visited McArthur-Burney Falls Memorial State Park, off Route 89; there we enjoyed the scenic falls and hiked through a gorge of volcanic basalt. Another detour, resulting from a snow-blocked National Forest road, sent us westward, where we circled the majestic cone of Mt. Shasta. Angling northeast on Route 97, we then crossed tule marshes and the Butte Valley Grasslands, passed through Klamath Falls, Oregon, and dipped back into California, spending the night in Tulelake.
This morning, we visited the fabulous Tule Lake NWR, where we encountered American white pelicans, western grebes, eared grebes, bald eagles, a few sandhill cranes, cormorants, various terns and a wide variety of waterfowl (including cinnamon teal). We then visited Lava Beds National Monument, just northeast of the dormant Medicine Lake volcano, where we explored basalt flows and lava tubes. Finally, we passed through Lower Klamath NWR (where avocets were especially abundant) and drove west to Medford, Oregon, dropping through the scenic Siskiyou Mountains en route. Tomorrow we head for the California Coast.
Saturday, 7 May 2016
Birding in Bad Weather
Since we are leaving on our California road trip tomorrow, I decided to get in one more visit to South Platte Park. While recent visits to the preserve occurred on warm, sunny days, this morning promised a different experience; low clouds, chilly air and a steady northeast breeze greeted me at the parking lot.
Despite these conditions (and, indeed, because of them), birding was excellent at the floodplain refuge. Violent-green swallows were especially abundant, strafing the lakes and the woodlands; other sightings of note included 55 yellow-rumped warblers, 17 yellow warblers, 6 yellow-breasted chats, 4 western tanagers, a few chipping sparrows and a lone great horned owl that stared at me from a lakeside tree. In all, my two-mile walk turned up 33 species, better than my counts on the warm, sunny days.
A gray overcast produces lighting that mimics dawn and dusk, when many species tend to be most active. In addition, the chilly air invigorates birds and mammals alike, stoking the drive to move and to feed. As a consequence, birding is often most productive on days that are less appealing to birders; today's visit to South Platte Park reinforced that fact.
Despite these conditions (and, indeed, because of them), birding was excellent at the floodplain refuge. Violent-green swallows were especially abundant, strafing the lakes and the woodlands; other sightings of note included 55 yellow-rumped warblers, 17 yellow warblers, 6 yellow-breasted chats, 4 western tanagers, a few chipping sparrows and a lone great horned owl that stared at me from a lakeside tree. In all, my two-mile walk turned up 33 species, better than my counts on the warm, sunny days.
A gray overcast produces lighting that mimics dawn and dusk, when many species tend to be most active. In addition, the chilly air invigorates birds and mammals alike, stoking the drive to move and to feed. As a consequence, birding is often most productive on days that are less appealing to birders; today's visit to South Platte Park reinforced that fact.
Thursday, 5 May 2016
An Ibis Squadron
Returning to South Platte Park this morning, I found that the yellow-rumped warbler invasion had diminished but those active insectivores were still abundant in the trees surrounding Eaglewatch Lake; my official count today was 93, less than a third of my estimate two days ago. Joining them were an increasing number of summer residents (especially house wrens and yellow warblers) and the usual mix of late spring visitors. A flock of American white pelicans soared above the refuge, an osprey fished on the open waters and the last of the wintering ducks had apparently left for northern breeding grounds.
This morning's highlight was a squadron of 16 white-faced ibis, moving in tight formation from southwest to northeast. Having wintered in Mexico or along the Gulf coast, these western ibis are on their way to shallow wetlands across the Northern Plains, stopping to rest and feed on small fish and aquatic invertebrates en route; they generally appear along the Front Range in late April or early May.
Engrossed as I was with counting songbirds on the meadows and in the trees, the appearance of the ibis was both a pleasant diversion and an inspiring sight. Like the flocks of migrant geese in spring and fall, they evoke a spirit of freedom that most humans can only begin to appreciate.
This morning's highlight was a squadron of 16 white-faced ibis, moving in tight formation from southwest to northeast. Having wintered in Mexico or along the Gulf coast, these western ibis are on their way to shallow wetlands across the Northern Plains, stopping to rest and feed on small fish and aquatic invertebrates en route; they generally appear along the Front Range in late April or early May.
Engrossed as I was with counting songbirds on the meadows and in the trees, the appearance of the ibis was both a pleasant diversion and an inspiring sight. Like the flocks of migrant geese in spring and fall, they evoke a spirit of freedom that most humans can only begin to appreciate.
Tuesday, 3 May 2016
Invasion of Yellow-Rumped Warblers
Hoping that my second e-Bird checklist for South Platte Park would significantly exceed my first (see A Disappointing Survey), I headed down to the floodplain refuge on this cool, sunny morning. Taking my usual 2-mile loop hike, I encountered 30 species, a modest improvement from last month; however, the count included two ospreys, a flock of Franklin's gulls, a tardy group of female buffleheads, a lone loggerhead shrike and a flock of 17 barn swallows, perched in a small tree and presumably exhausted from their migration.
But the highlight of this visit was a tremendous number of yellow-rumped warblers (I estimated 300), foraging in almost every tree that graces the southern section of the refuge. Indeed, their numbers were so great that the movement of these small insectivores distracted me from other species that I attempted to locate. Per records provided on e-Bird, this count is more than double the previous maximum for any site in Colorado this year but it doesn't come close to the U.S. e-Bird record of 63,600+ observed at Cape May, New Jersey in the autumn of 2010.
After wintering across most of the central and southern latitudes of the U.S. and Mexico, yellow-rumped warblers return to breeding areas in the western mountains of North America and across Alaska, Canada and northernmost regions of the Lower 48. During their spring and fall migrations, they often travel in large flocks, a fact that was certainly confirmed at South Platte Park this morning.
But the highlight of this visit was a tremendous number of yellow-rumped warblers (I estimated 300), foraging in almost every tree that graces the southern section of the refuge. Indeed, their numbers were so great that the movement of these small insectivores distracted me from other species that I attempted to locate. Per records provided on e-Bird, this count is more than double the previous maximum for any site in Colorado this year but it doesn't come close to the U.S. e-Bird record of 63,600+ observed at Cape May, New Jersey in the autumn of 2010.
After wintering across most of the central and southern latitudes of the U.S. and Mexico, yellow-rumped warblers return to breeding areas in the western mountains of North America and across Alaska, Canada and northernmost regions of the Lower 48. During their spring and fall migrations, they often travel in large flocks, a fact that was certainly confirmed at South Platte Park this morning.
Thursday, 28 April 2016
Avocets at Eagle Bluffs
A dozen American avocets graced Eagle Bluffs Conservation Area this morning, feeding in a shallow pool with blue-winged teal, American coot and a host of shorebirds. Having wintered along the Gulf Coast or in Florida, they are headed for ephemeral wetlands, alkaline lakes and prairie ponds across the High Plains. Many of those that winter in Mexico breed in the Intermountain West while permanent populations reside in the Central Valley of California.
These elegant birds, equipped with a long, up-curved bill, feed on aquatic invertebrates, sweeping the shallows to locate their prey. Monogamous for the breeding season, avocets are highly territorial, aggressively defending their offspring from intruders and predators. Following elaborate mating displays, the nest is placed on the ground, generally within a shallow scrape near the edge of a lake or pond; 3-4 eggs are normally laid though avocets sometimes parasitize the nests of black-necked stilts (and vice versa).
American avocets are most abundant across the Western U.S. and are relatively uncommon migrants in the Midwest and Eastern U.S. Today's flock was thus a special treat for those of us who visited the Missouri River floodplain on this cool and breezy morning.
These elegant birds, equipped with a long, up-curved bill, feed on aquatic invertebrates, sweeping the shallows to locate their prey. Monogamous for the breeding season, avocets are highly territorial, aggressively defending their offspring from intruders and predators. Following elaborate mating displays, the nest is placed on the ground, generally within a shallow scrape near the edge of a lake or pond; 3-4 eggs are normally laid though avocets sometimes parasitize the nests of black-necked stilts (and vice versa).
American avocets are most abundant across the Western U.S. and are relatively uncommon migrants in the Midwest and Eastern U.S. Today's flock was thus a special treat for those of us who visited the Missouri River floodplain on this cool and breezy morning.
Thursday, 21 April 2016
A Grove of Warblers
On my tour of Eagle Bluffs Conservation Area this morning, the expected mix of birds was found. Blue-winged teal were abundant, joined by lesser numbers of northern shovelers, American coot, gadwall, wood ducks and mallards. Shorebirds included greater and lesser yellowlegs, common snipe, spotted sandpipers, pectoral sandpipers and a small flock of dowitchers. The resident bald eagles (2 pair) were present and I encountered the first green herons of the season.
The highlight of my visit occurred on my way out when I noticed two small birds flitting about a grove of trees that line the central channel. Pulling over for a closer look, I soon discovered that the grove was alive with small insectivores; yellow-rumped warblers were most abundant, joined by palm warblers, Tennessee warblers, prothonotary warblers, a northern waterthrush and a pair of blue-gray gnatcatchers. Among these relatively common species was a lone male blackpoll warbler.
This collection of small, colorful songbirds, less than ten feet from my pickup, reminded me of past visits to Cane Creek and Magee Marsh on the southern shore of Lake Erie, were spring migrants congregate to rest and feed before crossing the open waters. No doubt, the activity of one flock attracted the others, creating a warbler spectacle amidst the vast landscape of Eagle Bluffs.
The highlight of my visit occurred on my way out when I noticed two small birds flitting about a grove of trees that line the central channel. Pulling over for a closer look, I soon discovered that the grove was alive with small insectivores; yellow-rumped warblers were most abundant, joined by palm warblers, Tennessee warblers, prothonotary warblers, a northern waterthrush and a pair of blue-gray gnatcatchers. Among these relatively common species was a lone male blackpoll warbler.
This collection of small, colorful songbirds, less than ten feet from my pickup, reminded me of past visits to Cane Creek and Magee Marsh on the southern shore of Lake Erie, were spring migrants congregate to rest and feed before crossing the open waters. No doubt, the activity of one flock attracted the others, creating a warbler spectacle amidst the vast landscape of Eagle Bluffs.
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