White-rumped Sandpipers

 On my visit to Eagle Bluffs Conservation Area this morning, it was clear that the floodplain refuge has entered its summer mode.  Of the 34 bird species that I encountered, only one was not a permanent or summer resident; the exception was a flock of white-rumped sandpipers.

After breeding on the Arctic tundra of North America, these long-distance migrants head for southern South America and adjacent islands, traveling primarily over the Atlantic Ocean.  Come spring, they head northward over land, funneling through the Great Plains and Mississippi Valley.  Due to the length of their journey, they are late spring migrants in the U.S., generally passing through in late May or early June.

This morning's flock was composed of 12 individuals, foraging on a mudflat along the central channel.  Difficult to distinguish from other smallish sandpipers when on the ground, their white rump and terminal black tail band are exposed in flight and, fortunately, they complied this morning.

The Monitored Life

In this Age of Technology, we are offered a wide variety of wearables and gadgets that are designed to keep us healthy.  While some are clearly valuable (automated blood pressure cuffs and glucose monitoring pods for diabetics are examples), one wonders at what point health data awareness leads to compulsion and anxiety.

Perhaps I am an exception but I seem to know when I have engaged in too little or too much exercise and when I have consumed too much junk food.  Neither do I need a high tech bed to know if I got a good night's sleep.  Not a fan of number games, I do not monitor my steps or count my calories.  While the monitoring tools may make some individuals more aware of their behavior, they are generally purchased by those who least need that assistance (i.e. those who already adhere to a healthy lifestyle).

Finally, to my knowledge, there are no wearables that monitor your time away from your television, your time listening to music, your periods of solitude or your time immersed in natural ecosystems.  In my experience, those are among the most healthy practices that one can undertake.

The Exploitation of Misery

Another mass shooting in the U.S. and the national media has rushed to the scene to provide all the details of the tragedy.  Of course, we all want to know what happened, why it might have occurred and, once again, what warning signs were missed or ignored.

What we don't need to see or hear is the emotional turmoil endured by victims, survivors, parents, grandparents and staff.  We need not ask a third grader to recount the horror of the event.  But the national media knows that many Americans are captivated by tear-jerking accounts and extended viewership brings in the ad dollars.  Imagine having the media descend on the untimely death of one of your family members; would that be comforting?

If the news organizations want to make a difference, they should descend on Congress, demanding comments from those who could prevent many of these tragic events.  Unfortunately, most Americans have little interest in policy discussions.

See also: Voyeurs of Tragedy 

Flashback Post XXXI

After yet another school shooting, I have decided to republish my thoughts following the Sandy Hook massacre, ten years ago this coming December.

See: Humans, Empathy & Guns 

The Commonly Uncommon Gnatcatcher

Casual birders and even non-birders are generally familiar with the common avian residents in suburbs and woodlands.  Robins, cardinals, chickadees and blue jays are excellent examples.

But some permanent or seasons residents, while common and widespread, are uncommonly observed; even veteran birders may enjoy encountering them.  Blue-gray gnatcatchers are just such a bird; these tiny insectivores often remain high in the trees and, were it not for their distinctive calls, might go unnoticed altogether.  They are also very active, flitting among the branches to snare insects; as a result, like many warblers, they can be difficult to identify.  Indeed, I suspect most suburbanites have never heard of this species.

Nevertheless, these attractive gnatcatchers summer across the southern 2/3 of the U.S., absent only in areas of the High Plains where few trees are present.  By early autumn, they head for Florida, the Gulf Coast, the Desert Southwest and Mexico.  This afternoon, a lone blue-gray gnatcatcher visited the trees along our back deck; I may not see another for a week or more.

Losing Faith in Humanity

Those who have read this blog on a regular basis know that I lost my faith in religious dogma long ago.  Now, sadly, I am beginning to lose my faith in humanity; the reasons are numerous and varied.

At the core of most is the willingness of individuals to accept the rhetoric of self-absorbed politicians and religious leaders; by doing so, they amplify conspiracy theories and derail efforts to address climate change, human rights, racism and economic fairness.  We have seen this ongoing battle between mysticism and science lead to the distrust of public health officials, resulting in unnecessary deaths and chronic illness throughout the Covid pandemic.  We have also observed the consequences of misinformation and witnessed the imposition of religious philosophy on citizens, school systems and private corporations.  At the International level, dictators, unchallenged by their own military and citizenry, stage wars, practice genocide and suppress dissent.

Many humans believe that we were placed on Earth to provide stewardship; if so, we have failed miserably.  The ongoing destruction of natural habitat, the poisoning of natural ecosystems and the induction of global warming have threatened the welfare of our planet and its inhabitants (including our own species).  Of course, the most consequential victim of our troubled reign has been truth.

In Search of Black Terns

Most veteran birders can identify at least a handful of favorite sightings over the years.  Some involve rare species but most are likely related to nostalgic events or field trips.  For me, my initial encounter with black terns is definitely on that list.

Forty-two years ago this month, I observed a large flock of black terns feeding beneath a dam on the Arkansas River, in Little Rock.  Within two years, we would move to Denver and I would only rarely see those attractive terns during their migrations on the Great Plains.  Here in central Missouri, they are regularly observed in mid-late May at Eagle Bluffs Conservation Area, on the Missouri River floodplain, as they travel from tropical coasts to freshwater marshes of the Northern Plains.  Unfortunately, due to the drainage and pollution of those marshlands, black terns are now far less common than they were in my youth.

Yesterday, having not yet seen the terns this year, I visited Eagle Bluffs specifically for the purpose of finding them; within a few minutes of my arrival, I observed two black terns on the central channel, snaring small fish and/or insects from the water surface and resting atop wood duck boxes between their sorties.  Knowing where and when to look for given species is essential to "birding success;" of course, sightings are never guaranteed but, this time, my past experience was rewarded.

The Cowbird Conundrum

Yesterday, a friend reported that a Cooper's hawk had killed a brown-headed cowbird on his property.  As an avid birder, my first impulse was to cheer.

After all, cowbirds lay their eggs in the nests of other songbirds, thereby enlisting the parents to raise their young.  Worse yet, the young cowbirds are often larger and more aggressive than their nest mates, outcompeting them for food and often knocking them from the nest to die on the ground.  Finally, the "adoptive" parents must expend extra energy caring for their demanding "intruder."

Nevertheless, this scenario is a natural process, one that has played out for thousands of years.  Suffering, deception and death are all part of natural ecosystems and human efforts to interfere with nature's complex cycle only promote its dysfunction.  We may not mourn the loss of a cowbird but neither is it cause for celebration.  Survival and procreation are the only goals that count; nature is not sentimental.

Escape to Nature

Our planet is a mess.  Climate change is taking its toll and Covid is making a comeback.  An unjustified war rages in Ukraine, economies are threatened by inflation and supply chain disruptions, stock markets are tanking, politicians remain dysfunctional and famine is beginning to spread across "undeveloped" countries.

While we must remain informed regarding these challenges and do our part in addressing them, we should not dwell on the relentless bad news; our mental and physical health depends on our willingness to tune out for most of each day.  As I have emphasized in the past, rely on news sources that have proven credibility while not resorting to hyperbole and endless repetition to retain your attention.

Equally important is a source of physical and mental relaxation.  Many find that biking, walking, reading, music and a variety of hobbies offer those benefits; some of us escape to nature.  Immersing ourselves in natural ecosystems, we experience the tranquility that comes with divorcing ourselves (however temporarily) from the stress of human society.  Unaware of the tribulations facing mankind, even though their welfare is threatened as well, wild creatures are focused solely on their personal needs and the needs of their offspring.  Witnessing and absorbing that independent mindset benefits all of us during these troubled times.

Cattle Egrets at Eagle Bluffs

Now that my oldest grandson has reached his teens, his interest in birding has, for some reason, waned.  This morning, I thus took his younger brother down to Eagle Bluffs Conservation Area for his initial introduction to birding.  Planning to concentrate on common, large species that would not frustrate his experience or test his patience, I was pleased to encounter a pair of cattle egrets feeding in a grassy area along the central channel; though they have recently been reported at Eagle Bluffs, these were the first I have observed at the refuge in hundreds of visits.

Absent from North America until 70 years ago, cattle egrets are natives of Africa that have now spread to all Continents except Antarctica.  Permanent residents along the Gulf Coast, throughout Florida and in certain locations of the Desert Southwest, many breed throughout the Southeastern U.S. and scattered populations now nest throughout most of the country.  Here in Missouri, they are primarily migrants but that status will likely change in the near future.

Unlike most herons and egrets with which they often nest in mixed colonies, cattle egrets are not generally found in wetlands.  Rather, these relatively small "waders" forage on grasslands, often in the company of livestock; there they consume insects that are attracted to or stirred up by the cattle.  No doubt, sightings at Eagle Bluffs will continue to increase as their summer range expands. 

Gar at Eagle Bluffs

Since the spring migration has nearly ended, Eagle Bluffs Conservation Area has entered its summer phase and the bird population now consists primarily of songbirds, waders and raptors.  Exceptions this morning were limited to Canada geese, a quartet of wood ducks, small flocks of blue-winged teal and shorebirds, a pair of Forster's terns and a lone white pelican.

Of special interest on this warm, sunny morning was a school of gar in one of the outlet pools.  Likely shortnose gar, which favor sluggish streams, backwater areas and oxbow lakes along larger rivers, they may have gathered to spawn in a grassy channel that connects the refuge pools with Perche Creek (a local tributary of the Missouri River).  These long, narrow fish, represented by four species in Missouri, feed on insects, small fish and a wide variety of aquatic invertebrates.

One of the many benefits of birding is the opportunity to encounter other wildlife as well.  White-tailed deer, river otters, beaver, muskrats, raccoons and a host of reptiles and amphibians are among the other residents of Eagle Bluffs.  This morning, we added gar to that list. 

Climate Change & Grandkids

We all know why Conservative Republicans ignore climate change and challenge the fact that human activity is largely responsible.  After all, their constituents include the fossil fuel industry, beef producers, various "developers" and religious evangelicals, among other groups that resist economic change to combat global warming.

But one wonders why these individuals seem unconcerned about the welfare of their grandkids and great grandchildren.  Do they wish to leave a planet pummeled by drought, water shortages, severe storms, destructive floods, rising seas, social dislocations and widespread famine?  We have already poisoned Earth's ecosystems and continue to use rivers and oceans as industrial dumps.

Conservation and climate change remain politically-charged subjects even as the welfare of our planet and our species are threatened.  Should we be enjoying the carefree benefits of modern industry and agriculture while ignoring their effects on future generations?  It's hard to accept the fact that many humans answer "yes."

Water and the West

Whether you accept the overwhelming evidence of climate change or not, it is clear that severe drought has been expanding in the American West while water consumption continues to increase.  The falling levels of Lake Powell and Lake Mead and the diminished snowpack in western mountain ranges offer convincing signs of a looming disaster.

Yet, Western cities continue to sprawl as Americans are drawn to the sunny, dry weather and mountain landscapes.  Focused on their tax revenue, city governments encourage companies to relocate to their community and permit the "development" of open space to provide the industrial, retail and residential support for their growing economies.  Of course, parks, golf courses and other public amenities only add to the water use.

Efforts to combat climate change, now heavily politicized, are vital to addressing the water shortage but limitations on water consumption are equally important.  Growth and development are exceeding the water resources and must be curtailed before both natural ecosystems and human communities begin to fail.

Flashback Post XXX

On this Mother's Day following the Supreme Court's leaked draft on Roe v. Wade, I thought it would be appropriate to republish my post from May of 2008.

See: Motherhood and Abortion 

Pioneer or Victim?

Last evening, as I enjoyed a frozen fruit bar in the shade of a large elm, a young cottontail emerged from a shrub line, nibbling its way across one of our "lawns."  It was the first I have seen on our property since our resident fox annihilated his/her relatives; perhaps this was the pioneer I have hoped would arrive.

While I was glad to see the cottontail, always so placid and endearing, I could not help but worry that it may not make it through the night.  Having observed nature for most of my life, I should not be susceptible to such emotional partisanship; after all, predator-prey relationships are at the heart of nature's cycle and, like it or not, she is not sentimental.  Who am I to deny the fox a meal?  Need we humans always root for the potential victim (as nature documentaries so often demonstrate)?

The familiar sound of a kill came in the pre-dawn hours and I had my answer.  As if to make a point, a great horned owl hooted in the background. 

Not so Orange-Crowned

Another secretive migrant turned up on our Littleton farm this morning.  Known as an orange-crowned warbler due to the male's plumage, his colorful head stripe is almost never visible in the field.

These ground-hugging songbirds nest throughout the forests of Canada and the mountain forests of Western North America; they winter across the southern U.S., from California to Florida, and southward through Mexico.  In all regions, they favor thickets, shrubs and small trees that line streams and forest clearings.  Insects are their primary food source but they also consume berries; nests are generally placed on the ground, protected by dense vegetation.

Initially mistaken for a house wren that was calling nearby, this morning's visitor was foraging in the tangles of our "wild corner" where chokecherries, lilacs and host of small trees border our primary brush pile.  His rather drab plumage blended with the background of limbs and sticks and his fondness for the shadows kept him mostly out of sight.  Nevertheless, I appreciated his visit as he heads for the foothills and mountains.

A Brief Spring

Now that winter has pushed back to the north, spring is taking hold with more conviction along the Colorado Front Range.  Here on our Littleton farm, the crabapples and wild plums are in full bloom while the lilacs and chokecherries are beginning to flower.

This morning, down along the South Platte, yellow-rumped warblers were common as their spring migration peaks; summer residents included cinnamon and blue-winged teal, yellow warblers, a blue-gray gnatcatcher, Bullock's orioles and a lone osprey.  Back at the farm, I encountered the first western wood pewee of the season (though eBird's computer questions my discovery).

Controversies aside, we expect sunny, warm weather for the next few days, leading up to my journey back to Missouri.  There I am told to anticipate hot, humid, summer-like conditions; I may remember 2022 as the year without a spring!

A Reclusive Visitor

While spotted towhees are permanent residents on our Littleton, Colorado, farm, green-tailed towhees are uncommon visitors, stopping by as they head to or from the foothills.  Having wintered in Mexico or in the low deserts of Arizona and New Mexico, they summer on brushy slopes and canyon walls throughout the Intermountain West.  Here along the Front Range, they prefer the foothill shrub zone, dominated by junipers and Gambel oak.

When I encounter this attractive towhee on the farm, it is usually in May and I am fortunate to find more than one.  Indeed, they spend most of their time in dense shrubs or thickets, protected from potential predators as they scratch through leaf litter for insects and seeds.  Their nests are also constructed within such dense vegetation.

Yesterday's visitor emerged from the cover of a sprawling juniper for a minute or less, just enough time for me to admire his colorful plumage and offer a brief greeting.  Not interested in idle banter, he returned to the seclusion of his shadowy hunting grounds. 

Summer Birds in Winter Weather

Heralded by thunderstorms in the night, a cold front dipped along the Colorado Front Range yesterday, bringing morning rain mixed with snow; throughout the gloomy afternoon, the temperature remained in the 30s F.  Our summer birds must have thought they took a wrong turn on their journey from the south.

Then again, they may "remember" that winter is often reluctant to leave Metro Denver and that they rarely return to persistent warm weather when they arrive from balmy latitudes.  Yet, our new borders were unfazed by the conditions; the house wrens were calling from damp shrub lines and a broad-tailed hummingbird noisy zoomed through the chilly air.

Unlike humans, they cannot afford to dwell on the weather.  After all, they must nest and raise their young in a relatively short period of time.  Evading nature's meteorologic challenges is not on their agenda.