Setback at Eagle Bluffs

Six weeks after our last visit, a friend and I drove through Eagle Bluffs Conservation Area this morning.  The pristine wetland ecosystem that we had left behind was now crawling with construction equipment and farm tractors.  Water was primarily limited to the central channel and crops covered most of the fields.

Disappointed by the turn of events, we completed our usual loop drive and saw a fair variety of birds.  Great egrets, all huddled in one shallow pond, were most abundant while a trio of young scissor-tailed flycatchers proved to be the highlight.  Other than two turkey vultures, no raptors were observed.  In total, 19 avian species were encountered during our 90 minute visit.

How odd that a brief recovery was permitted to occur before this floodplain wetland was all but closed down once again.  No doubt, there are reasons related to wastewater management but this second round of devastation was difficult to accept. 

The Birding Nadir

While naturalists enjoy outdoor sightings (plant and animal) throughout all seasons, I suspect that, for most birders in the Temperate Zone, July is the low point of their year.  The breeding season has ended, heat suppresses avian activity and, except for some "early" shorebirds, migrations are not underway.

Though winter weather may pose more of a challenge for some birders, permanent and winter species tend to be active and conspicuous; after all, their survival depends on locating an adequate supply of food.  Furthermore, winter often brings irruptive species and rare wanderers into our area.  Of course, the spring and fall migration periods are especially rewarding, offering a mix of permanent and seasonal residents, joined by a fabulous variety of transient visitors.

Experienced birders know that early and late day jaunts are the best way to encounter a reasonable number of species during the heat of summer.  Nevertheless, in my experience, July cannot match the avian diversity of June or August; it earns my personal designation as the birding nadir.  

Our Natural Aviary

Just outside the family room of our Columbia, Missouri, house, is a magnolia tree with an open maze of internal branches.  Unobstructed by leaves, it attracts perching birds and offers us a direct view of our avian visitors.  Indeed, movement within this central area often attracts my attention, even when I am otherwise occupied.

This convenient rest stop for avian visitors and residents has certainly accounted for more species identifications than any other location in our yard.  Just this afternoon, a tiny, female northern parula alighted in the magnolia, briefly foraging along a limb before flying off.  Yesterday, a Swainson's thrush, a common spring migrant on its way to Canada, stopped by, posing in the tree for several minutes.

A window on the great outdoors, especially with a feeder or a perching tree nearby, is an excellent way for new birders to become familiar with the many species that reside in or visit their yards; it is an especially valuable resource for those too infirm to explore outdoor habitats. 

Watching for Summer Birds

It is that time of year when summer avian residents begin arriving from their wintering areas to our south; indeed, quite a few species have already been reported, though I have only observed tree swallows, eastern phoebes, pied-billed grebes and a scissor-tailed flycatcher (the first seen in Columbia this spring and the earliest I have ever observed one in Missouri, on April 3).

Though my success is clearly behind many local birders, the joy of observing new arrivals is always worth the effort.  Among the species already documented by others have been green herons, soras, a Virginia rail, northern rough-winged swallows, yellow-throated vireos, yellow-throated warblers and blue-gray gnatcatchers.

One need not travel to nature preserves to observe summer residents; in fact, many can be found in the average backyard.  Join the search and join eBird to report your sightings!  Your data will help to monitor the health of our avian populations.

Like the Good Old Refuge

When a friend and I arrived at Eagle Bluffs Conservation Area early this morning, we were reminded of the fabulous wetland refuge that we knew before the recent man-induced drought.  Open water was extensive and hundreds of ducks fed in the shallows or dove in the deeper pools.

Northern shovelers dominated the waterfowl though most expected species were observed; the first blue-winged teal of the season were among them.  A pair of bald eagles were at their nest and American coot nodded their way across the central channel.  On the other hand, we did not encounter any great blue herons or hawks and few songbirds were seen.

Nevertheless, it was a pleasant and reassuring visit.  Migrant geese and American white pelicans have been reported at the refuge over the past weeks and the spring migration season is just beginning to unfold.  We'll be back on a regular basis to witness the annual spectacle and to immerse ourselves in this restored wetland ecosystem, 

Birding in Frigid Sunshine

On this sunny but very cold morning in central Missouri, I took my usual drive through the farmlands east of Columbia.  As expected, many birds were clearly sheltered from the chill in thickets and woodlands.

But I did encounter some of the more hardy species along the graveled roads and above or on the broad fields and pastures.  Sixty or more Canada geese had settled on a partially frozen lake, a few flocks of dark-eyed juncos rose from the weedy roadsides as I passed, a large congregation of mourning doves foraged along the edge of a crop field, several American kestrels hunted from power lines, a Cooper's hawk streaked across my path in pursuit of unseen prey and an adult bald eagle soared overhead, oblivious of the frigid conditions.

Protected by the warm confines of my pickup, I admired the tenacity of those open country birds.  Of course, they have evolved to tolerate such conditions and, unlike we humans, are not discouraged by temperature readings or dire weather forecasts.

Crow Island

Birding in the Lower Bonne Femme Valley, southwest of Columbia, this morning, I drove out to the Missouri River where bald eagles often roost in large cottonwoods along the banks.  I did not see any eagles but did observe a flock of American crows, crowded on a rock outcrop in the middle of the river.  The exposed rock was only about 10 feet in diameter and I counted 32 crows.

I initially wondered if they spend the night there to avoid predation but doubt that a sizable flock of aggressive crows would be the target of any nocturnal hunter.  Perhaps it was a gathering point before a day of scavenging regional farmlands but, within ten minutes, they headed off in different directions.

Any experienced birder has regularly encountered much larger flocks of crows (especially in winter) but this morning's sighting was, after 50 years of birding, new to me.  Such is the nature of birding and the reason that we are repeatedly drawn into the great outdoors. 

A Snow Goose!

Following two months of failed attempts to locate and observe migrant geese (snow geese and/or greater white-fronted geese) this autumn, including two crossings of the Great Plains, I set out for the farmlands east of Columbia once again, hoping that a flock or two might have settled in the many fields of crop stubble.  But, before I drove more than two miles from our house, I encountered a lone snow goose, flying westward above one of the busiest intersections in Columbia.

Far from the pristine, pastoral experience that I have been seeking, it was nevertheless a rewarding moment during this frustrating migration season.  Though I had theoretically achieved my goal, I pressed on to the farmlands, spending an hour zig-zagging across the scenic, rural landscape.  Alas, no additional migrant geese were observed.

Hopefully, this morning's traveler won't prove to be the only snow goose that I observe this season.  On the other hand, he/she has flown all the way from the Arctic to make an appearance in my home town.  I am (and should be) grateful.

Addendum (12/26/25): A flock of 120 snow geese flew over our neighborhood early this afternoon, heading southwest! 

Birding Beneath the Fog

Low clouds and light fog enveloped Columbia throughout this morning and into the early afternoon.  As I headed down to Eagle Bluffs Conservation Area, I was thus concerned that the fog would thicken and my viewing would be impaired as I dropped onto the Missouri River floodplain.  Fortunately, the lower fog line was above the refuge elevation and my birding efforts were unaffected.

Recent mild temperatures had cleared most of the ice and waterfowl species were easy to identify in the filtered light.  Mallards and American coot remained the dominant species, joined by northern shovelers and ring-necked ducks. A pair of adult bald eagles perched in their nest tree while a red-tailed hawk, a red-shouldered hawk and a northern harrier hunted on the grasslands.  Migrant geese have yet to arrive in any significant numbers.

In concert with the recovering wetlands and the regular influx of waterfowl, human hunters had returned, their pickups, camouflaged canoes and blinds spaced across the floodplain.  The refuge is now totally back to "normal."

A New Birding Spot

Avid birders tend to have a modest number of birding locations (perhaps 6-8) that they visit on a regular basis.  Over time, however, some of these destinations become congested with walkers, bikers or vehicle traffic; we thus search for other local birding spots that offer a mix of natural habitat and a reasonable degree of solitude.

This morning, I visited a new spot myself, a 2 mile long country road lined by crop fields, pastures and woodlands; one of the latter stretches along a creek bed.  During my brief tour (just over half an hour), I encountered 11 avian species.  Most of these were common permanent or winter residents but one was a lone short-eared owl, the first I have seen this season.

Unlike most owls, short-ears are often active during the day, hunting in open country from a fencepost or by flying low across a grassland or crop field; they feed primarily on birds and small mammals.  By April, they return to breeding areas throughout the northwest quadrant of the Lower 48 and northward into Canada and Alaska. 

Open Country Raptors

Driving across the snow-covered farmlands east of Columbia this afternoon, I encountered a few of our more common, open country raptors.  Two American kestrels were observed, hunting from power lines, a red-tailed hawk was perched on a telephone pole while another soared above the snowy landscape and a northern harrier attacked a massive flock of blackbirds, sending them into the chilly air.

Though I occasionally see short-eared owls and rough-legged hawks in that area, none were observed along my 6-mile route.  And while my vigil for migrant snow geese and greater white-fronted geese continues (without success), I did see a large flock of Canada geese, feeding in the crop stubble; it is more rewarding to encounter these common birds on farmlands than on the large, pristine lawns of our various businesses.

My winter tours of Missouri farm country will continue and, one of these days, flocks of migrant geese will grace the scene.  For now, I'll enjoy the raptors.  

Frigid Sunshine in the Valley

Brilliant sunshine illuminated the wooded hills and valley fields along Lower Bonne Femme Creek this morning but a temperature of 22 degrees F, exacerbated by a steady west wind, kept wildlife mostly out of sight during my visit.

Indeed, along my three-mile course I encountered only a smattering of common songbirds and a lone, stoic, red-tailed hawk, perched in a dead tree.  Though I hoped to see migrant geese traveling south through the Missouri River Valley, none appeared in the deep blue sky.

Of course, my tour was well worth the effort, despite the weather and the dearth of wildlife.  I could have been home, enveloped in heated air while absorbing the latest atrocities of the Trump Administration.  I'll take a drive in the country anytime.

Winter Flocks

Many bird species gather in large flocks during the colder months to improve their search for food and to decrease their risk of predation.  Even non-birders likely note the massive flocks of starlings, blackbirds, robins and mourning doves that move across farmlands and sometimes invade our neighborhoods.

Other songbirds tend to gather in feeding groups for the same purposes.  These mixed flocks usually include chickadees, titmice, downy woodpeckers, blue jays, cardinals, nuthatches and a host of sparrows, juncos and finches.  Absent for periods of time, these groups suddenly turn up in our yards, scouring the trees and shrubs or swarming the feeders.

All of these roaming winter flocks attract the attention of predators and draw in rare loners as well, further enhancing the spectacle for birders.  While we look forward to the spring and fall migrations for their pure diversity of species, it is winter that delivers the numbers. 

Back to the Audubon Sanctuary

Having not visited the Columbia Audubon Nature Sanctuary in a couple of years, I decided to correct that oversight on this sunny, mild morning.  Offering a pleasing mix of forest, prairie and wooded meadows, draped across a stream valley, the preserve is accessed by a fine network of trails; better yet, benches are spaced along the routes, providing rest stops and view points for those of us who choose to (or need to) use them.

Always an excellent refuge for observing songbirds, woodpeckers and raptors, this morning's visit was true to form.  White-breasted nuthatches were most conspicuous, seemingly annoyed by a pair of red-tailed hawks that circled overhead.  Though all of my sightings were of common species, I was the only human to grace the preserve during a one hour visit (a positive development for one who enjoy's solitude).

More regular excursions to the Audubon Sanctuary are certainly in order and I intend to return to this scenic refuge at least once each season.  After all, like all natural ecosystems, its welcoming party varies through the year.  

Winter Songbirds Arrive

Over the past week, winter songbirds have filtered into Central Missouri.  These birds summer and breed to our north (or at higher elevations), migrating to more temperate life zones for the colder months (generally from mid October to mid April).

While permanent avian residents remain the majority, they are now joined by white-throated and white-crowned sparrows, purple finches, pine siskins, hermit thrushes and dark-eyed juncos.  Less widespread and usually observed in rural areas or wetlands are American tree sparrows, swamp sparrows, fox sparrows, Harris' sparrows and golden-crowned kinglets.  Brown creepers, red-breasted nuthatches and yellow-bellied sapsuckers, while not songsters, are also among our winter avian residents.

Beyond the influx of songbirds are winter raptors (merlins, rough-legged hawks and short-eared owls, among other rare visitors) and waterfowl species that may or may not stay through the winter (depending on the availability of open water and food).  All of the winter species are certainly more than welcome and encourage us to leave the cozy confines of our heated homes to enjoy the invigorating weather and scenic landscapes of the season.  

An Update from Eagle Bluffs

Since my normally-reliable birding companion is out West, bumming around the Four Corners region, I enticed one of my grandsons to join me for an excursion to Eagle Bluffs Conservation Area this afternoon.  Low clouds shrouded the floodplain, light rain was falling and shallow water covered the channels, sloughs, pools and low spots in the fields.  In other words, recovery from the prolonged, man-made drought is nearly complete.

From mid-October through the winter, access is limited to the northern half of the refuge to protect wintering waterfowl.  Based on our observations this afternoon, the waterfowl have not yet responded to the improved conditions; we observed about 75 mallards, 36 American coot, a dozen or so gadwall, four northern shovelers, two Canada geese and a lone pied-billed grebe.  No waders or shorebirds were seen nor was there any sign of duck hunters.

Nevertheless, the watery landscape was the star of our visit.  This fabulous wetland refuge has recovered and, hopefully, the waterfowl will soon find out.   

An Influx of Migrants

As a friend and I discovered at South Platte Park this morning, yesterday's northerly winds brought down the first significant number and variety of migrant waterfowl.  Following a sluggish start to the autumn migration, these travelers, most of which will likely spend the winter along the Front Range, were a welcome sight.

Among the species observed were pied-billed grebes, buffleheads, hooded mergansers, gadwall, American wigeon, northern pintails, ring-necked ducks and a lone canvasback; they joined year-round residents, including mallards, wood ducks and ring-billed gulls.  Observing these flocks were an osprey and a pair of bald eagles, perched in a treeline west of the lakes.

Since I will be returning to Missouri in a few days, it was good to witness the early stages of this inspiring annual transition.  Hopefully, the Midwestern version will greet my arrival.  

Bugling from the Blue

Yesterday afternoon, while reading under a clear blue sky, I heard the distinctive bugling of sandhill cranes.  A flock of fifty-five cranes was passing overhead, almost too high to see.

During this autumn of sluggish waterfowl migrations, the cranes seemed to signal that our seasonal spectacles will still unfold, tardy though they may be.  A couple of potent cold fronts should bring the flocks south.

Heading for wintering grounds in New Mexico or West Texas, sandhill cranes pass over the Front Range urban corridor each autumn.  We birders hope to witness their journey and I am grateful to have been in their path. 

Searching for Winter Birds

October is the month during which winter avian residents generally arrive on our Littleton farm.  So, under the watchful eyes of our resident fox, I looped through the property, searching primarily for dark-eyed juncos and, our regular seasonal boarder, a lone Townsend's solitaire.  Alas, none were seen.

Nevertheless, it was a rewarding effort.  I encountered a large flock of bushtits and the woodpecker-nuthatch crowd were well represented.  Among the twelve species observed, house finches, as always, were most abundant, followed by American robins that were feasting on juniper berries.  Of note, a red-breasted nuthatch, once classified as a winter resident in this region, was seen; this entertaining species has become a permanent resident here over the past decade or so.

I certainly hope that some of the winter birds will turn up before I return to Missouri and I suspect they will.  Then again,  the expectations of birders are often not met. 

Climate Change & Bird Counts

This morning, while watching construction across the street (I am still a young boy at heart), I caught site of four Mississippi kites, circling the canopy of a neighbor's tree.  Upon reporting this incidental sighting on eBird, I was confronted by their vigilant  computer, advising me that the count was unexpectedly high for this date and location.  As I have reported in the past, I respect the need for accuracy and was not at all offended by the digital query.

On the other hand, I sense that climate change is already having significant effects on seasonal bird counts, especially for species that do not strictly adhere to the solar cycle; waterfowl and migrant raptors come to mind.

Over the coming years, eBird and other avian monitoring groups will certainly have to adjust their data and expectations.  No doubt, some species may stop migrating altogether.