The Second Swallow

While tree swallows are among the first summer residents to arrive in Missouri, often by mid March, barn swallows begin to appear by the end of the month, though, in my experience, most arrive in April.  Tree swallows, having wintered as close by as the Gulf-Coast region, tempt fate amidst the ice and snow but it is even more remarkable that barn swallows return as early as they do, having spent the winter in South America.

Breeding throughout most of North America (excluding the boreal forest, the Arctic tundra and the Southwestern deserts), barn swallows favor open grasslands, farms, savannas and wetlands where they usually nest under the eves of out-buildings.  Gracefully strafing fields and lakes, they feed on a wide variety of flying insects.

This morning, while walking around Perry Phillips Lake, in southeast Columbia, I encountered my first barn swallow of the season, mingling with a flock of tree swallows.  Within a few weeks, large numbers of barn and cliff swallows will begin nesting in the covered fishing dock at the lake, providing a spectacle for local birders through early summer.

A Potent Northwest Wind

On the backside of yesterday's storm system, a strong, dry, northwest wind has scoured away the clouds, humidity and much of the excess moisture that had drenched the soil.  Of course, it has also brought cooler air to central Missouri and, temporarily, put a halt to northward spring migrations.

Indeed, as I entered Eagle Bluffs Conservation Area this morning, a flock of American white pelicans was heading south into the refuge, seemingly reluctant to confront the potent headwind.  Within the refuge itself, the number of waterfowl has continued to swell, having ridden balmy, south winds ahead of the storm.  American coot once again dominated the scene, now numbering over 3000 by my count; new arrivals included a lone horned grebe, an increasing number of blue-winged teal and pied-billed grebes and a trio of greater yellowlegs.

The potent, gusty wind is expected to slowly abate and the higher sun and dry air will push the afternoon high into the low-mid 60s (F).  By tomorrow, the wind should be less intense and avian travel in and out of Eagle Bluffs will resume. 

When Sunshine Threatens

As a potent storm sweeps across the Midwest, several bands of thunderstorms have moved through Columbia.  Though none have been severe, they have dropped heavy rain.

Ironically, as the skies have cleared this afternoon, our risk for supercell thunderstorms and potential tornadoes has increased.  The center of low pressure now sits over eastern Nebraska and the cold front bows southeastward, through western Iowa and eastern Kansas; moving into unstable air, enhanced by daytime heating, it is expected to ignite severe storms from Kansas City to Chicago with the greatest risk of tornadoes in northern Missouri, eastern Iowa and northwestern Illinois.

Currently bathed in sunshine, with temperatures in the low 70s (F), we are now in the risk zone and are under a tornado watch until 9 PM; had cloud cover persisted through this afternoon, the atmospheric instability would be less.  Sometimes, sunshine can be problematic.

An Evening Sapsucker

Last evening, at the end of a warm, sunny day in central Missouri, a female yellow-bellied sapsucker visited our backyard.  Attracted by what appeared to be a natural sap well in a black maple tree, she repeatedly returned to the site to partake of the sugary fluid and her sorties caught the attention of a small group of chickadees that also indulged in nature's handout.

Unlike most woodpeckers, yellow-bellied sapsuckers are migratory.  After breeding across southern Canada, New England and the Great Lakes region, they winter in the Southeastern States as well as Mexico and Central America.  While some winter in southern Missouri, these birds are primarily migrants in our area, usually observed in March and early April each spring.

Though they usually drill rows of holes to obtain sap, they also take advantage of natural wells where the bark has been damaged.  Sapsuckers also consume berries and a wide variety of insects (many of which are drawn to their sap wells).  Having found a reliable food source, our visitor will likely stick around for a few days before continuing north.

A Cloud over Spring

By late March, it looks, smells and sounds like spring across most of the U.S.  Early flowers are blooming, the lawns are greening, the soil is thawing, birdsong is exploding and new leaves spread across the shrub lines.  But this year, a cloud hangs above nature's beauty, diminishing our appreciation for the season.

The coronavirus pandemic, threatening communities across the globe, occupies our attention, keeping many of us indoors.  The joys of spring, from gardening to baseball, have been placed on hold and the social gatherings that usually characterize the season have been banned.  Our focus is not on the new life of spring but on potential illness and death and how we might best prevent them.

Yet, one need only gaze out the window to be reminded that spring is the season of hope and renewal.  We witness the resilience of life, having survived the dark, cold months of winter to reclaim the landscape.  While our personal winter may last for a few more weeks or months, we can escape to nature's spring and should do so at every opportunity, whether in our own backyard or at a nearby refuge.  Nature's therapeutic effects are universal.

Nature's Alarm Clock

Almost every morning, just before dawn, a Carolina wren begins to sing outside our Columbia, Missouri, home.  Its loud, repetitive, distinctive tune is not merely a response to spring; rather, it is heard throughout the year, providing a reliable wake-up call.

Common, permanent residents across the central and eastern U.S., from the Great Lakes region southward, Carolina wrens are thought to mate for life and are often observed in pairs; in years with mild winters, their range expands northward and, in recent years, they have begun to appear as far west as the Colorado Front Range.  Primarily insectivores during the warmer months, they also consume seeds, berries and suet in winter.

These attractive wrens, reddish-brown above with a white brow-line, white throat and buff-colored chest and abdomen, nest in a variety of natural and man-made cavities; the latter include brush piles, bird houses and crevices in walls and out-buildings.  Favoring open woodlands or forest margins with an understory of shrubs, Carolina wrens are common in suburbia where their song and calls are heard from dawn to dusk in all seasons.

Cootville

Yesterday, on a glorious morning in central Missouri, a friend and I visited Eagle Bluffs Conservation Area, on the Missouri River floodplain.  There we found that the spring waterfowl migration continues to build; northern shovelers, blue-winged teal and American white pelicans were especially common but American coot dominated the scene.

Easily identified by their dark-gray bodies, black heads and white bills, coot are highly gregarious during migrations, feeding in and out of shallow water.  Consuming a wide variety of plants, seeds and invertebrates, they graze, dive or skim food from the surface; their distinctive head nodding as they glide across the water also aids identification.  Since their meat is not favored by hunters, these members of the rail family tolerate close approach but, if disturbed, patter across the water to escape the threat.

Indeed, American coot migrate at night and are seldom observed in flight.  While they are permanent residents in most States west of the Mississippi River (including Missouri), their numbers increase dramatically during migrations, when they congregate at favored staging areas.  Their spring flocks at Eagle Bluffs generally peak in early-mid April but they seem to be ahead of schedule this year.

The Nature of Panic

As the coronavirus pandemic continues to worsen, testing our resolve and rattling markets, anxiety may give way to panic.  The latter is irrational fear, often leading to behavior that is counterproductive, if not dangerous.

Panic arises primarily from a sense that one has no control over whatever is causing their fear.  Hoping to learn that their personal risk is diminishing, he/she may compulsively tune into coverage of the fear-inducing event (in this case the pandemic), a reaction facilitated by 24/7 cable news and, of course, the internet.

Panic is best assuaged by taking productive action, thereby gaining a sense of control, and by focusing on the present rather than on an uncertain (and imagined to be disastrous) future.  By adhering to the recommendations of public health officials and assisting those who are especially threatened by the pandemic (family members, neighbors or certain community groups) one is likely to find that their level of anxiety falls in concert.  Limiting exposure to updates via television or the internet is also advised.

On a Soggy Floodplain

A week of intermittent rain, cool air and cloudy skies has produced soggy conditions across the Missouri River floodplain.  Indeed, on my visit to Eagle Bluffs this morning, I was greeted by a steady, light rain, muddy fields with extensive shallows, roadside sloughs and rim-high pools, an attractive landscape for migrant waterfowl.

Among the latter were large flocks of northern shovelers, American coot and lesser scaup, joined by smaller groups of Canada geese, mallards, gadwall, blue-winged and green-winged teal, wood ducks, buffleheads and ruddy ducks.  About 300 American white pelicans lounged along the large lake or glided above the floodplain, en route to smaller pools.  Other sightings included bald eagles, red-tailed hawks, killdeer, great blue herons, tree swallows and a host of songbirds.

Despite the weather and sloppy conditions, it was a pleasant escape from our corona virus seclusion.  In fact, I was the only human visitor on this rainy morning and relished the company of the wild residents and migrants.  Immersing oneself in nature is always a healing experience, even when gray skies and muddy fields dominate the scene.

Social Distancing in Nature

As the coronavirus spreads across the country, we are all advised to practice social distancing as much as possible.  In concert with that effort, schools and museums have closed, sporting events have been cancelled and meetings of any kind have been discouraged.  We are encouraged to work from home if possible and to entertain ourselves with books, streaming movies, etc.

But there is another option that appeals to many of us: field trips to parks and nature preserves where close contact with other humans is unlikely to occur.  Birders, hikers and naturalists, having visited these locations for years, know exactly were to go; there they can engage in their favored activities, get exercise and enjoy the calming effects of nature and fresh air.

Escaping one's house and yard is an appealing prospect at any time of our life and during any season of the year.  Those who can safely head for natural refuges during this difficult period will likely receive a host of benefits.

An Influx of Shovelers

Northern shovelers are long-billed dabbling ducks that breed across the Northern Plains of Alaska, Canada and the U.S., wintering primarily in the western and southern States.  Amateur birders may mistake them for mallards, due to the coloration of the males, but shovelers ride lower in the water, using their flat bills to filter seeds and aquatic invertebrates from the shallows; indeed, they often gather in flocks to swirl in circles, stirring food from the muddy bottom.

On this cool, rainy morning in central Missouri, a friend and I visited Eagle Bluffs Conservation Area, on the Missouri River floodplain; there, shallows covered most of the fields, attracting a large number and variety of ducks.  Northern shovelers dominated the scene, numbering at least 800 by my conservative count, joined by lesser but significant numbers of green-winged teal, American coot and blue-winged teal; the latter two species are just beginning to arrive in significant numbers (which usually peak in April).  Other sightings included at least 400 American white pelicans, a couple dozen great-blue herons, a large flock of lesser scaup, five bald eagles (two incubating eggs) and a squadron of tree swallows, the first of the season.

But this was a morning to enjoy the biannual influx of northern shovelers.  While some inhabit the refuge in winter and others dally into April, their spring migration through central Missouri generally peaks in mid-late March.  We were glad to witness that event.

A Chilly but Noisy Morning

On this cloudy, cool morning in Columbia, Missouri, I visited the Forum Nature Area in the Hinkson Creek Valley.  There, despite the chilly air, birdsong was intense, triggered by the lengthening daylight of early spring.

The songs of northern cardinals, American robins, tufted titmice, white-throated sparrows, red-winged blackbirds and song sparrows were most evident, mingled with the calls of Canada geese, red-tailed hawks, blue jays, red-bellied woodpeckers and northern flickers.  Less intense were the background chirps and tweets of chickadees, downy woodpeckers, eastern bluebirds and yellow-rumped warblers.  In some areas, the rising calls of chorus frogs drowned out the birdsong.

I had expected to encounter eastern phoebes and tree swallows on my walk through this floodplain refuge, the first summer songbirds to arrive each spring.  While they were not observed today, they will surely arrive within the next week or so, regardless of the weather that may greet them.

Rumbling into Spring

Thunderstorms rumbled across central Missouri this morning and may re-develop this afternoon.  Since the clash zone between cool, dry air and warm humid air lies south of our region, the storms were not severe; in fact, the potential for strong thunderstorms with possible tornadoes currently stretches through Arkansas, southeast Missouri and the Ohio River Valley.

Looking at the weather map, one can see the effects of an undulating jet stream.  A deep, cold, atmospheric trough dips through the Intermountain West while "shallower" troughs dip across the Upper Midwest and New England.  South of the latter troughs, warm, humid air is streaming northward from the Gulf of Mexico, igniting bands of rain and thunderstorms where these atmospheric ridges and troughs collide.

This annual weather phenomenon usually begins along the Gulf Coast in February and the clash zone gradually drifts northward over the following months, fueled by heat from the rising sun angle.  Here in Missouri, potent spring thunderstorms generally peak from mid April into early May; today's thundershowers are but another sign that winter is retreating.

Spring Erupts at Phillips Lake

My wife and I frequently take walks around Perry Phillips Lake, in southeast Columbia; throughout this winter, the lake and its surrounding park were relatively devoid of birds (at least during our visits).

On this sunny, cool morning, all had changed.  Birdsong was intense and a pleasing mix of species moved through the lakeside shrubs, across the grasslands and into the nearby woodlands.  Dark-eyed juncos, white-throated sparrows and yellow-rumped warblers were most abundant, joined by lesser numbers of northern mockingbirds, mourning doves, eastern meadowlarks, robins, killdeer, song sparrows and an eastern phoebe.  American crows noisily moved through the Park which was patrolled by a lone red-tailed hawk and an American kestrel; a flock of Canada geese passed over the lake where buffleheads, lesser scaup, northern shovelers, gadwalls and pied-billed grebes had gathered.  Clouds of midges rose along the lakeshore and chorus frogs sang from shallow sloughs south of the lake.

While the spring equinox is still ten days away, the season has certainly taken hold here in central Missouri.  Wintry incursions may yet occur but the higher sun and unsettled jet stream will fuel a march toward the heart of spring. 

Politics, Fear & Coronavirus

As the coronavirus pandemic spreads across the globe, disrupting markets and the lives of citizens in most countries, the level of fear is rising.  While there is certainly justification for concern, politics has, once again, exacerbated the situation here in the United States.

President Trump's comments and behavior, fed by his extreme narcissism and paranoia, have repeatedly interfered with messaging from public health experts. Funding cutbacks at the CDC, his Administration's slow response to the coronavirus outbreak and his predilection to blame the media for hyping the crisis, have all inflamed distrust, fear and confusion across the country.  Having placed Pence and other sycophants in charge of our national response, Trump has doubled-down on efforts to protect himself from any high-level criticism.

As scary as the pandemic may be, it is the sense that our government is both ill-prepared and too politically-oriented to effectively deal with the pandemic that augments fear in America.  Self-indulgent leadership will only complicate the crisis.

Killers in the Neighborhood

Over the past few days, eery cries have been ringing through our neighborhood in central Missouri, often beginning just after sunrise.  Their source is a pair of Cooper's hawks, swooping among the trees and perhaps beginning to nest in our neighbor's large walnut tree.

As occurs in most raptor species, the female is significantly larger than her mate but both are easily identified by their accipiter features, including a long, banded tail.  These hunters feed primarily on mid-sized birds (jays, doves, flickers) but will also take smaller prey.  Nevertheless, the songbirds in our yard appear to be relatively unfazed by their presence.

Permanent residents throughout most of the U.S., those that breed across Canada and the northern latitudes of our country generally migrate to warmer climes in winter.  Cooper's hawks once favored mature forest but have adapted well to human activity, now nesting and hunting in the open woodlands of river valleys, abandoned farmlands and suburbs.

Migration Surge at Eagle Bluffs

Back in Missouri for a month, I visited Eagle Bluffs Conservation Area on this sunny, cool morning.  Recent mild weather had scoured the landscape of ice and snow and the open pools hosted an excellent variety of migrants.

Most notable were at least 850 American white pelicans, gliding across the lakes or soaring above the floodplain.  Among the ducks, northern shovelers were most numerous; green-winged teal were also abundant, joining lesser numbers of mallards, northern pintails, lesser scaup, gadwall and a lone ruddy duck.  Canada geese were common while snow geese were limited to two flocks, totaling seventy birds.  Four bald eagles patrolled the refuge, two of which were already incubating their next generation.

The migration surge will build through March and into April, when blue-winged teal, coot and shorebirds join the northward exodus.  I hope to visit repeatedly during that period, honored to witness one of nature's most predictable yet stirring spectacles.