A trusting Bufflehead provided an extended period to observe and photograph while it foraged by diving below the water surface for extended periods. The biggest surprise of the week was a very late American Golden Plover that eventually provided some documentary photos. Shouldn’t you be in South America by now young plover? The amount of mud on this Canvasback’s bill suggests why the species has such a long, robust bill – for probing substrate for food at the bottom of a wetland. Snow Geese continue to dominate the avifauna in Paul’s neighborhood. Friday a huge flock of geese sailed overhead as they were landing at a field that was covered by thousands of feeding geese. Getting close photos of feeding Tundra Swans was a big breakthrough during an exciting migration period following the passing of an Arctic cold front. Seeming to be taking a much needed migration rest stop, this trio of American Avocets will probably never delay their migration again after having to stand on ice last Saturday.

Thursday afternoon, Friday, and Saturday morning provided the best birding period of the season to date – maybe the best of the year – as tens of thousands more geese flooded into the surrounding area, along with a variety of birds that kept me searching out the next birds of distinction. Six huge flocks of thousands of Snow Geese mixed with Ross’s Geese set the stage, along with 4 flocks of mixed Cackling, Canada, and White-fronted Geese numbering in the hundreds. Building numbers of Tundra Swans included 42 assembled just 1½ miles north of my office on Thursday, with 149 concentrated 15 miles to the west Friday, plus 13 scattered flocks numbering between 2 and 12, mostly observed in flight.

There were rare sightings too; very late sightings considering the freezing weather that reached into the teens and twenties the previous week to freeze all but the largest lakes, but warmed into the 30s by Thursday and 40s by Saturday. With Western Meadowlarks occasionally flushing from the sides of the road, out of the corner of my eye a slightly larger bird flushed, and it looked like it had longer pointed wings. My first impression was an Upland Sandpiper, but they should be in South America by now. I turned around, hoping to relocate the bird, and was wholly taken aback when I saw an American Golden Plover standing on the side of the road!

I wanted to document the plover by photographing it, but I was on the wrong side of the bird where I would only get a silhouette with backlighting. I decided to try to work my way past the plover, but it flushed into an adjacent grain stubble field. I watched from a distance, hoping the Golden would return to the roadside, and applauded my patience in waiting for it to walk slowly, 4 steps at a time in plover fashion, picking at food parcels along the way, until it reached a section line road where I could approach it for photos. The late-migrating American Golden Plover wasn’t totally up for my program, but I did manage to take some nice images of it as it foraged along the side of the road.

As if that wasn’t enough, as I was tuned into the rare plover (rare so late during freezing weather in these parts), a small songbird caught my attention among the short grasses of the roadside. A Horned Lark? Nope, a late Palm Warbler! Gee, what’s next? Well, less than a mile down the road a small flock of similar-looking songbirds flushed from the side of the road: Yellow-rumped Warblers. Now Yellow-rumps are more likely to be late migrants, but the sighting is noteworthy too considering the recent Arctic weather. Before I could relocate the warblers, a partly frozen lake caught my attention – not the lake so much as the concentration of ducks in the open water areas near the road.

Large mixed-species flocks of ducks were feeding along the edge of the ice that covered much of the lake, including many Buffleheads and Lesser Scaup numbering more than 100, with a few Canvasbacks and Hooded Mergansers mixed in along with a lone male Common Goldeneye. The late season ducks provided some interesting photo ops from a distance, along with closer chances to photograph a foraging Canvasback that was diving for extended periods, surfacing with a lot of mud on its long bill – obviously digging in the substrate, perhaps for plant roots or small clams.

Beyond the ice-covered stretch of the lake, a little opening in the ice was occupied by a trio of male Buffleheads that I thought might permit a photo approach using my mobile blind. As I eased forward, 2 of the small ducks took flight, but one remained to my delight; and I enjoyed an extended photo and observation period near the diving Bufflehead. I tried to emphasize the iridescent colors on the duck’s head plumage that sparkled in shades of blue, green, and violet; and while I was on site, a female Bufflehead flew in to feed in the opening in the ice too, providing a second photo subject.

Throughout this photo session, Snow Geese were prevalent in flight and in voice, and eventually I drove to the other side of the lake where I was surprised by the volume of geese assembled there – thousands, and when something set them off, they rose up like a loud snowstorm, filling my view with a kaleidoscope of action as they settled back down into the southwest bay. Only a mile or so before sighting the American Golden Plover I encountered a similar-sized concentration of geese feeding in a harvested corn field.

While I stopped to check that flock out, I noticed the geese were actually assembled in a circle with a large goose-free area in the center. About that time the thousands of Snow and Ross’s Geese took flight, starting at one side and continuing like a wave in a stadium. Big flocks of geese are prone to flushing for no apparent reason, but as the geese transferred to stand on the ice atop an adjacent lake, I spied the reason for their thundering concern – an eagle, a rare in this area Golden Eagle. It suddenly flew up from the center of the original goose circle, showing it was a first-year Golden by the white band across its tail feathers and white coloration in the center of each wing.

The eagle flew in a tight circle, and I watched its progress through my binoculars, hoping it would fly in my direction, but it suddenly dropped low to the ground, feet and deadly talons extended as it zeroed in on an adult blue morph Snow Goose. The goose seemed to jump and run and dodge the eagle, with the raptor engaged in some aerial maneuvering until the goose initiated a low flight. The eagle continued its chase, but both birds landed among the cut corn stalks in an extended standoff that eventually made me continue my birding drive.

Other sightings in that area near Church Lake included the first of fall Rough-legged Hawk down from the Arctic, a dark morph female soaring low but on the go; a pair of Bald Eagles perched next to one another overlooking a huge flock of geese, and I encountered 6 Gray Partridges, 3 Sharp-tailed Grouse, 2 male Ring-necked Pheasants, an America Tree Sparrow, small flocks and pairs of Horned Larks, and 5 Northern Harriers observed one by one. Notable exceptions were Red-tailed Hawks, that have now all but vacated the area.

Swan Breakthrough

Friday morning I checked back to see if the nearby group of swans was still on site, and 26 white dots indicated most remained 1 ½ miles to the north of my office. As part of my local survey, I decided to drive a bit farther east to see if Train Lake to was ice-free, and if so, what waterfowl might be present. Ducks, geese, and swans were all possible if the lake wasn’t covered with a sheet of ice. From quite a distance I could see the lake was reflecting deep blue sky, a sure sign of open water, and on the east side I could see white spots – potentially swans.

As I topped the high hill on the southeast side of the lake I could see the big flock of Tundra Swans far to the north, swimming and loafing along a peninsula that extends from the east shore. I opened my window to listen to the swan music in the chill air as I began counting swans using my binoculars – there were 141 Tundra Swans – far more than I imagined! But they were nearly a half-mile away and virtually unapproachable for photography, which is the norm. I couldn’t help but question: “Why are they so wary, so prone to using distant, hard to reach or impossible to reach locations?”

I backed off the hilltop turnout, and continued down the hill, only to gasp loudly as I saw a small flock of Tundra Swans swimming near the edge of the lake, maybe 70 feet from the road! My heart was pumping faster as I eased safely off the side of the road and turned off my engine in one slow smooth move – and suddenly I was photographing Tundra Swans at close range! The swans barely looked in my direction, intent on feeding in the shallow water or loafing near the shore, some didn’t even look up. There were 8 impressive Tundra Swans before me, including a pair with 2 full-sized gray young of the year – what luck!

At first the family group was resting, so I concentrated on photographing the other 4 swans that were actively feeding, working the water and perhaps the mud below with their huge webbed feet, then reaching into the depths of the shallow water to glean whatever food they were intent on collecting. A few ducks were feeding in association with the swans, as often happens – a few Redheads, a Canvasback, a Ring-necked Duck, and a couple American Wigeons. It appeared the ducks prospered from the foot-paddling action of the swans, as the ducks were actively diving around the much larger Tundra Swans.

The family group soon activated and I concentrated on photographing them as they began feeding in the same fashion, taking some of the best photos I’ve been able to manage of all too wary Tundra Swans. I was back the following morning, taking more photos of the swans, including photos of some Tundras in flight – quite a breakthrough for me, which I expand on with more photographs in the Bird Photography feature in this issue.

Slow at Home & Weekend Update

While the avian action has definitely picked up in the surrounding area, my feeding station and landscaping were mostly deserted with the exception of the regular White-breasted Nuthatches and irregular Hairy Woodpeckers and lone female Downy Woodpecker. I did have quick visit from 2 songbirds adjacent to my feeding station during a short time at home Thursday – a lone Dark-eyed Junco and an equally lone American Tree Sparrow – both welcome sightings. Close but not quite in my yard were a few American Robins and 2 small flocks of Dark-eyed Juncos down the road Friday afternoon.

Accented with light rain Sunday, from Saturday afternoon forward, low clouds prevailed through publishing time late Tuesday, so I was less active as a birder. However, I took a quick drive Sunday to check on local avian action and made a longer drive Monday to check on flocks of swans. The big flocks of geese have stagnated in the area, which is good ‘cuz it’s a thrill to be surrounded by tens of thousands of geese daily. The big flocks bounce from lake to lake and to different harvested fields regularly. But it was clear Monday that far fewer ducks were present, and all Tundra Swans appeared to have moved on – I saw none, which made me so thankful to witness flocks in the area Thursday through Saturday. And I was doubly thankful to have had the chance to photograph swans at close range Friday and Saturday morning.

Monday afternoon I did see my second Rough-legged Hawk, also a dark morph, actively migrating in a southerly straight line. The other noteworthy sighting was of 4 Bonaparte’s Gulls in the company of a young Ring-billed Gull. I’m glad to report that the ice on some of the larger marshes is melted or melting after the week of Arctic weather has tempered with low temps around the freezing mark and highs nearing 50 – great fall goose weather. I hope you are in the midst of an avian blitz too, ‘cuz it sure does wonders for our spirit and outlook – fall birds provide something more to look forward to as they bring us more in touch with the ebb and flow of nature.

Article and photos by Paul Konrad

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