A Philadelphia Vireo

Birders often remember their excursions based on a certain species; one that was new to them, one that they seldom observe, one that was rare or "out of place" or one that was especially abundant or conspicuous on that day.  This morning, at Forum Nature Area in Columbia, my "bird of the day" was a Philadelphia vireo.  

These warbler-like vireos are uncommon migrants through Missouri.  After breeding in mixed woodlands across Southern Canada, from the Rockies eastward, Philadelphia vireos head for the Tropics to spend the northern winter.  In all seasons, they feed primarily on insects, usually gleaning them from the leaves of trees and shrubs.

At most, I seem to encounter one of these migrants each year, usually in the fall.  This morning's visitor, hunting in a lakeside willow with a mixed flock of chickadees and titmice, was, I presume, my annual sighting.  I wish him safe travels!  

Knob Noster State Park

Knob Noster State Park protects a large tract of forest in west-central Missouri.  Dissected by a network of small streams, the Park also harbors several scenic lakes.

A fine trail system provides access to the refuge (though some stream crossings need work) and, on this cool autumn morning, we enjoyed all the expected sights and sounds of a Midwest Forest.  White-tailed deer, squirrels, turtles (aquatic and terrestrial) and a variety of woodpeckers dominated the wildlife population.

In my youth, our local forest offered an exciting escape from the sterile atmosphere of our suburban neighborhood.  Now, after a lifetime of forest exploration, the woods still provide both the wildness and the tranquility that I sought in my early years.  In addition, the forests offer hope; not only are they carbon sinks (so vital at this point in Earth's history) but they are refuges from the relentless "development" and cultivation that threaten the natural diversity of our planet.  We desperately need more forest. 

Black Saddlebag Skimmers

Reading outside the other day, I caught sight of two dragonflies, zigzagging above our front yard.  They appeared to have heavy, dark bodies but, in fact, that illusion was due to black blotches on their proximal, hind wings.  Their official name, black saddlebag skimmers, is a creative interpretation of that appearance.

Rather common throughout most of North America, these skimmers, like other dragonflies, lay their eggs in shallow ponds or wetlands.  Once hatched, the aquatic juveniles feast on a wide variety of invertebrates, especially on the larvae of mosquitos.  Southern populations produce two generations each year while northern residents manage only one.

Like many butterflies, black saddlebag skimmers migrate southward as the autumn chlll sets in.  Perhaps our visitors were gearing up for the journey ahead. 

Hart Creek Conservation Area

Hart Creek is a 657 acre Conservation Area north of Hartsburg, Missouri.  The majority of the preserve stretches across the Missouri River hills between the Katy Trail and the Hart Creek Valley.  A two-mile hike takes visitors from a parking lot along Hart Creek Road (just northeast of Hartsburg) to an overlook deck that offers a sweeping view of the Missouri River floodplain.

After crossing the creek on a wooden bridge, the grassy trail leads out to Hart Creek Lake before entering the forest for a long, steady climb to a trail junction.  There, a side trail leads westward to the overlook.

This morning, the forest was alive with the hammering and calls of woodpeckers (mostly red-bellied but also red-headed, downy and northern flickers) and the raucous cries of blue jays; white-breasted nuthatches, American goldfinches and turkey vultures were also fairly common and we observed a total of 15 species (a bit disappointing) during our visit.  Indeed, crunching across an abundant crop of acorns along the trail, I certainly expected to encounter wild turkeys but none made an appearance.  Sometimes it's just best to enjoy the exercise, the landscape and the views.

House Sparrows and Humans

Over the past six years or so, we have watched as Perry Phillips Lake, in southeast Columbia, has morphed from a farm lake with surrounding natural habitat to a suburban lake, bordered by a mix of "development."  In concert, house sparrows have become increasingly common along the loop trail.

Immigrants from the congested cities of Europe, house sparrows have thrived in the sprawling cities, suburbs and farms of America, feasting on discarded food, waste grain and other human handouts.  Visit a wilderness area and you will not likely encounter these gregarious birds but, the closer you get to human settlements, the more abundant they become.

Such is the case at Perry Phillips Lake.  When we first began visiting the Park, house sparrows were rarely encountered.  Now that suburban homes, apartment complexes and business parks have sprouted around the lake, house sparrows have also moved in (I counted at least 40 yesterday).  To paraphrase the lyrics of Joni Mitchell, they like parking lots and we are paving over paradise!

Canary Islands Volcanism

 The Canary Islands are a chain of seven volcanic islands that stretch ENE to WSW off the northwest coast of Africa.  Like the Hawaiian Islands, they have formed over an oceanic hotspot.

As the Atlantic Ocean opened and the Tethys Sea closed, the African Plate has moved to the ENE, passing over the hotspot (an upward plume of the Earth's mantle).  The oldest of the Canary Islands are thus at the northeast end of the chain and are now devoid of active volcanism (i.e. they are in the erosional phase of their natural history).  The middle islands of the archipelago now lie northeast of the hotspot and are unlikely to experience active volcanism.  The southwestern islands, including La Palma, sit above the hotspot and, as we have seen this week, are prone to volcanic eruptions.

The current eruption and basalt flows on La Palma could last for months, if not longer.  After all, the eruption of Kilauea, on the Big Island of Hawaii, has continued since 1983.

A Boreal Migrant

A gray-cheeked thrush turned up in our magnolia tree this morning, perhaps after an overnight flight from Northern Canada.  Breeding primarily in open boreal forests of Siberia, Alaska and Canada, these mid-sized thrushes migrate primarily across the eastern half of the U.S., heading for their wintering grounds in the Tropics of South America.

Based on my imperfect recollection, this was the first gray-cheeked thrush that I encountered on our Columbia property since we purchased the home, 24 years ago; it was thus a delight to observe our visitor.  Like other members of its family, this bird consumes a mixed diet of insects and berries; unlike most of the others, it tends to remain in woodlands during migration and is seldom seen in open areas.

One of the most appealing aspects of birding is the opportunity to observe residents of distant ecosystems as they migrate through our home territory.  Better yet, it reinforces the interdependence of life across our planet, encouraging us to support the protection of natural habitat in all regions of the globe.

21st Century Darwinism

It is painful to watch.  Hundreds of thousands of Americans dying needlessly from a preventable illness.  The culprits?  Misinformation, lack of eduction and political correctness appear to lead the list.

Despite the technological advances that led to the safe and effective vaccines, many Americans value their personal freedom and party affiliation more than their own health and the health of their fellow citizens.  This misguided philosophy leads to a tragic and seemingly endless cycle of severe illness and death.

While innocents (children, the elderly and the immunocompromised) are also victims of this social dysfunction, one must accept the fact that we are witnessing 21st Century Darwinism.  Those unwilling to accept scientific data and to take advantage of the vaccines are being culled by natural forces.  Nature is neither sympathetic nor forgiving.

Devil's Backbone

A few miles east of Columbia Regional Airport, Cedar Creek makes a hairpin turn on its way to join the Missouri River.  Within that narrow curve, a ridge of Mississippian limestone, known as the Devil's Backbone, offers spectacular views of the Creek Valley.

Having never visited the site ourselves, we headed east on Englewood Road from the northeast corner of the Airport.  After passing through the town of Englewood, we continued another mile or so to Backbone Road which leads southward to the ridge.

Once there, we enjoyed broad views of Cedar Creek Valley and watched as a flock of turkey vultures, joined by a lone bald eagle, soared along the cliffs.  As spectacular as the views were today they are no doubt more expansive during the winter months when the deciduous leaves have fallen.  We will certainly return to find out! 

Saved by Soras

When a friend and I arrived at Eagle Bluffs Conservation Area early this morning, dense fog shrouded most of the Missouri River floodplain.  As the morning progressed, the fog burned off and we enjoyed a pleasant tour of the refuge; unfortunately, the birding did not match the scenery.

While teal hunters crouched in the muck with their decoys, we did not see a single goose or duck during our two hour visit; indeed, a lone pied-billed grebe was the only bird found on the pools and central channel.  Among the 17 species that we encountered, the only "highlights" (a generous term) were a handful of great blue herons, a single green heron, a female northern harrier, a broad-winged hawk and a belted kingfisher.  Then, as we headed for the exit, loud cackling arose from a marsh along the central roadway.

The source of the noise was a trio of soras, small rails that migrate through Missouri; after breeding in freshwater marshes across Canada and the Northern and Western U.S., soras depart for saltwater marshlands along southern coasts of the U.S., Mexico, Central America and South America.  More often heard than seen, the reclusive, omnivorous rails saved our morning excursion. 

A Swallow-tailed Kite in Kansas

 Most of us associate swallow-tailed kites with Florida and neighboring States and, until today, I had never encountered one outside of that region.  Shortly after 11 AM, as I drove eastward on Interstate 70, I saw one along the highway, just west of the 435 interchange in eastern Kansas (Wyandotte County).

Its beautiful black and white plumage, deeply forked tail and typical kite maneuvers made identification easy, even when traveling at 65 mph.  Nevertheless, I was shocked to see the bird and was relieved to find that another birder also reported the sighting (on eBird) from the same area.

In fact, if one reviews the map of swallow-tailed kite sightings over the past 5 years (available on eBird), these magnificent aerialists have been observed as far north as Southern Canada and as far west as Wyoming, eastern Colorado and Southern California.  While most of these were likely non-breeding wanderers, it is rewarding to know that this kite might be reclaiming some of its past breeding grounds, which extended along rivers to the Northern Midwest.

From Autumn Chill to Summer Heat

Last night, I was awakened by the strong scent of wood smoke wafting through the open windows of our Littleton farmhouse.  A cold front had just passed southeastward across the Front Range urban corridor, pulling down smoky air from the Western fires.

By this morning, as we left for Missouri, the temperature was 48 degrees F, the lowest it has been this season in Metro Denver.  Cloudy and chilly conditions persisted all the way to Colby, Kansas; just south of that city, we passed through a band of rain, the leading edge of the cold front.  Once through the rain, the temperature gradually rose, reaching 70 degrees F in WaKeeney and 81 degrees F in Hays, where we will spend the night.  According the the forecast, summer-like heat, with a high of 91 degrees F, will greet us in Columbia, Missouri, tomorrow.

Unfortunately, we will miss the best weeks of the year (in my opinion) for exploring the Rocky Mountains.  From mid September to mid October, the summer crowds have thinned, early snows dust the higher peaks, the beautiful aspen display unfolds and the bugling of elk echos through the mountain valleys as bulls gather their harems.  My consolation prize will be the spectacular autumn migration of waterfowl, shorebirds and hawks through the Missouri River Valley.

Blog Fodder

Waiting on a phone call, I took a brief stroll through our Littleton farm on this warm, sunny September morning.  I wasn't expecting to observe anything unusual but one never knows.

As it turned out, I encountered the first plumbeous vireo of the fall migration season, watched a mixed group of white-breasted and red-breasted nuthatches storing sunflower seeds in the crevices of tree bark and outbuilding walls and enjoyed the comical antics of a fox squirrel, tip-toeing atop a pasture fence with a large apple in his mouth.  Nothing worth a post, some might suggest, but it is my blog!

Indeed, since I have written more than 4000 posts over the past 15 years, I am occasionally asked how I come up with enough material.  While there is plenty of redundancy in this blog (hence the Feedback Posts), there is a simple answer to their query: I go outside and look around.  The more one pays attention to nature's diversity, the more there is to write about (like a squirrel with his over-sized lunch).  

Riders on the Storm

Just before noon, dark clouds were building to our west and, as the storm approached, cool winds swept across the farm, displacing the warm air that the morning sunshine had produced.  As if on cue, our resident birds became active, clearly invigorated by the sudden chill.

Overhead, a quartet of cormorants, a red-tailed hawk and a Cooper's hawk soared in the westerly breeze, staying just ahead of the approaching storm.  In the end, we received little rain from the darkening sky but the aerial display was rewarding enough.

Of course, as I watched those birds, I immediately thought of Jim Morrison's song, Riders on the Storm, which was popular fifty years ago this summer (just after Morrison died in Paris at the age of 27). Always intrigued by his dark lyrics, I think this morning's event was a fitting tribute to the famous poet and songwriter.

September Bird Count

This morning, I took part in the September bird count at South Platte Park.  My group was assigned to the southern section of the South Platte River and to adjacent ponds and lakes.

While we encountered only 23 species over two hours, we did see a large number of snowy egrets and double-crested cormorants; other sightings of note included six wild turkeys, more than a dozen common mergansers, wood ducks and a lone sharp-shinned hawk.

As is often the case, once we left our assigned area, we saw several more species: American white pelicans, an osprey and a kestrel, among others.  Veteran birders know that we often encounter more species in our own backyard than we do on an official count; after all, birds are highly mobile and pay little attention to human boundaries and designated preserves (as well intentioned as those refuges may be).

Hike to Panorama Point

Corwina Park is accessed from a parking lot along Bear Creek, just east of Kittredge, Colorado.  A 3.5 mile roundtrip hike takes visitors from this lot to Panorama Point, which commands a broad view of the Upper Bear Creek Valley.

The first portion of the hike climbs gradually southward along a small side creek, passing through ponderosa parklands, small groves of aspen and fingers of the Douglas fir forest; Colorado blue spruce also rise along the creek.  Within a mile, this entry trail intersects both the Panorama Point Trail and the Bear Creek Trail; the former begins a steep climb onto the east wall of this side valley, using short stairways and a series of switchbacks.

Once at Panorama Point, hikers are rewarded with a spectacular view of the Upper Bear Creek Valley, centered on the Mt. Evans massif where the creek heads.  Kittredge stretches across the valley in the foreground and the outskirts of Evergreen, farther west, poke above and intervening ridge.  The rocky overlook is a great spot for a picnic lunch and, if you do break out the treats, you can count on Steller's jays and Colorado chipmunks to turn up for handouts. 

Flashback Post XXIV

Since the American football season begins this week, I thought it might be a good time to exhume my blog post from December, 2012.

See:  Modern Gladiators

Medical Messaging

One of the complicating factors during the COVID pandemic has been mixed messaging from the CDC, FDA and "experts" across the country.  The experts, which hail from universities, research centers and pharmaceutical companies, are given a broad audience by national cable services that are always looking for controversy and drama.

In my opinion, the medical community should coalesce their messaging, uniformly standing behind science-based data that would be released monthly by the CDC Director.  This data should include case numbers, vaccination rates and specific recommendations regarding protective behavior (vaccination, masking, social distancing, etc.) and therapeutic options.

Mixed messaging may be welcome fodder for the news services but it is also a potent excuse for those who refuse vaccination and/or do not adhere to other protective measures.  The current mix of personal opinions, predictions, theories and recommendations is counterproductive and dangerous. 

Past and Present II

As we progress through our lives, most of us have some regrets.  These may be related to relationships, career choices or other factors that determine the course of our life.

Dwelling on such regrets, we tend to overlook the context in which our decisions were made and, too often, wish that we could somehow change what we did or did not do.  It is easy to assume that our lives would have been more enjoyable or more rewarding if we had taken a different path.

But, of course, changing the past would undo the present and, for most of us, that would be unacceptable.  It is the nature of humans to judge ourselves and we often must learn to be happy; taking credit for what we have achieved and who we have become is the ultimate cure for futile (though unavoidable) regret. 

The Lunatic Fringe is Widening

American democracy, public health, human rights and the welfare of our planet are all under assault, led by a growing number of Republicans.  Cowed by threats from Trump and his legions, Republican politicians and their media enablers push conspiracy theories, block efforts to address climate change, enact laws that limit voting rights and personal choice, disrupt effective management of the pandemic and stymie the important function of Congress.

Despite an increasing number of hospitalizations and deaths from COVID, vaccination rates remain far too low (especially in Red States) and mask mandates are challenged.  Despite the costly devastation and human misery wrought by wildfires, hurricanes, flooding and severe winter storms, the majority of Republicans still deny climate change and do not support adequate spending on infrastructure to deal with its effects (not to mention the cultural changes required to reverse its progression).

Saddled with this large and growing populace of scientifically-uneducated and conspiracy-minded individuals, effective government is nearly impossible.  When individuals are willing to put the health and future of their children at risk, there is little room for reason or compromise.

Back to Staunton State Park

After a seven-year hiatus, my wife and I returned to one of Colorado's most beautiful State Parks this morning.  Staunton State Park stretches beneath a wall of scenic rock formations along the southeast edge of the Mt. Evans massif; it is accessed via Elk Creek Road from U.S.285.

A fine network of trails lead hikers and mountain bikers through open parklands of ponderosa pine, stands of aspen and dense pockets of Douglas fir.  Views extend to domes of granite that rise along the north edge of the Park and to the high spine of the Platte River Mountains along the southern horizon.  Visitors are almost certain to see mule deer, elk (in winter), Abert's squirrels, golden-mantled ground squirrels and an excellent diversity of Transition Zone birds (Steller's jays, mountain chickadees, gray-headed juncos and pygmy nuthatches were most conspicuous this morning); black bears and mountain lions also inhabit the Park but are seldom encountered.

Due to its beautiful setting, fine trails and proximity to Metro Denver, Staunton State Park can be crowded, especially on fair weather weekends.  I thus recommend a weekday visit and, as always, an early or late day visit will be most productive for wildlife viewing.  A nominal day-use fee is charged (currently $10 per vehicle).

A Stroll at Hudson Gardens

On this cloudy, relatively cool afternoon in Littleton, my wife and I took a walk at Hudson Gardens in the South Platte River Valley.  Once a private botanical gardens and long a venue for outdoor concerts and holiday events, the Gardens are now owned and managed by the South Suburban Recreation District; admission is free from sunrise to sunset.

Unlike some botanical gardens, which have an artificial feel, this attractive preserve is a mosaic of plantings, natural vegetation, creeks, ponds and wetlands; of course, educational exhibits are also utilized to promote conservation and habitat protection.  Since we visited in the afternoon, we encountered few birds but did see a bull snake and a muskrat.

Most of all, we enjoyed a pleasant stroll on uncrowded trails, enveloped in soothing, early autumn air.  I'm sure we'll return frequently in the coming months, especially since the Gardens are directly accessible from the riverside Greenway Trail, a path we often hike along.