Greater Prairie-Chickens!

As my date with the prairie-chicken blind approached, I watched the forecasted temperature drop, and drop, and drop. And in response, my packlist grew longer and longer. The weather could be worse, though.

4:30am: phone alarm goes off. I whip up a travel mug of cappuccino and hit the road. The weather is in line with the most recent predictions. Cold. A snow flurry turns into a decent snow shower as I head towards Rothsay, and in short stretches the windshield is almost whited out. Visibility continues to be an issue as I arrive at the parking place for the blind and head out on foot. I'm now very glad I scouted out the area the previous weekend so I can confidently walk straight while the glow of my flashlight is mostly exhausted by the falling, blowing snow; the reflective posts meant to guide birders to the blind were completely concealed. I arrived at the blind, began setting up, and realized I had left my cappuccino in the car.

By 5:49, I'm fully set up in the blind, and the wait isn't long. At 6:11, still dark, I see a chunky, winged silhouette descend into the mix of snow and grass about forty feet away. Then a few more. Then begins the haunting and hilarious sounds of the greater prairie-chicken courtship displays. The morning is already a success.

The wind howls on. The sun creeps over the horizon, casting its awesome "golden hour" effect for a sliver of a moment before ducking back into cloud cover. All the while, the prairie chickens dance, boom, strut, spar, sit and rest. It's incredible to watch and listen to.

I don't know if I've ever been so cold for so long--something I'm grateful to claim. I've been out in far worse temperatures, but the < 20F and the incessant midwestern winds had me doing my best chickadee impression in the blind. At 7:58, the prairie-chickens whirled away, leaving but two behind. As excited as I was by the birding action, I was excited to get out of the cold. But a short while later, the prairie chickens returned to the blind area. I certainly couldn't complain about a lack of the bird I was out to see!

At 8:41, the prairie chickens fled once more, and this time none remained. Hastily, I closed up the blind, flung my backpack and camera bags over my shoulders, and made my way to the warmer confines of my car.

It's approaching 11:30 as I wrap up this post, and I'm already looking forward to watching birds for Project FeederWatch tomorrow. I will definitely book another morning at the prairie-chicken blind in the coming years, and I will definitely make it for a later date in April or May.

Looking Forward

It's been a long week, due in part to some very "long week" weather. Rain, snow and strong winds have been rolling through the Upper Midwest the past several days, and the forecast for the week to come isn't looking much better (obviously a minor issue in the grand scheme). Today was a bit of an oasis, as the sun popped out of hiding to deliver a really pleasant afternoon.

A nice, short walk through the park turned up a fun little selection of birds such as one of my most favorite species--the brown creeper (posted just above). The ice has finally melted from the ponds, and the first wood ducks are beginning to appear.

Later in the day, I made the quick drive to the Rothsay area to scout for next weekend when I'm hoping to see my first ever Greater Prairie-Chickens! Today the fields were filled with a large happening of red-winged blackbirds, and I spotted a few first-of-year waterfowl in the small ponds. Also, this kestrel posted up to munch upon its freshly found lunch.

Early April FeederWatching

After a couple relatively busy weeks, I decided to give myself a quiet Project FeederWatch weekend. Saturday was a comfy day, and while the sun shone bright and warm, I snuck out to lie in the backyard and snap a few photos of this cottontail enjoying its little nook.

The robins have arrived in full force and at full volume. Good thing I wasn't sleeping well regardless of their pre-dawn chirps.

Saturday's most exciting observation: my second sighting of a female purple finch among the house finches at the sunflower lantern.

And on Sunday it snowed. Thankfully, the ground had warmed just enough to melt the large, poofy flakes on impact. In funner news, two northern flickers popped by the yard, and, at last, they're back . . .

Spring or . . . ?

March marks the beginning of spring--at least "officially." Per usual, it's been the struggle of seasons with spring offering glimpses of warmth and hope between winter's cold, dying breaths. The only sign of spring on my outing this morning were the clouds of snow and greater white-fronted geese occupying the water of the White Rock Recreation Area.

Earlier in the week, and on a much nicer day, I took a short walk through the park where the robins and grackles are returning!

Little bit of everything

It's amazing that I'm awake enough to write after arriving home from the Tool show in Minneapolis at 3am and hitting my alarm at 7 this morning to go to work, but I've felt myself surprisingly vigilant today considering the depthless sleep. Perhaps the greatness of the show has propped me. But Tool's performance played second best of the weekend, upstaged by the state championship game of the Minnesota Class AA boy's hockey tournament—an instant classic, double-overtime affair which would keep anybody with half an interest in good hockey at their seat's edge.

And of course, I got out for my fair share of birding around the Twin Cities area, making a stop en route at the Crow-Hassan Park Reserve where I saw my first trumpeter swans and rough-legged hawks of the year.

Plus this very cooperative nuthatch.

This cardinal along the paths of the Kane Meadows was also photographically friendly in his perching.

The last birding venture for the weekend was a visit to the Mississippi Gateway Regional Park. No decent pictures were managed there, but I did spot my first hooded mergansers and common goldeneyes for the year!

Great Backyard Bird Count 2022

Every February since 1988, the Cornell Lab and National Audobon Society have invited birders to celebrate the Great Backyard Bird Count, a four-day stretch to observe and report birds seen from home. Frankly, I had never heard of the GBBC prior to this year, but as I grow further entrenched in the world of birding, I find myself celebrating more and more of these occasions.

The first day of the GBBC saw a dusting of snow being flung all about by the strong winds which would continue throughout the weekend, but the chickadees, house finches and redpolls would not be so easily deterred.

Nor would this eastern gray squirrel who appeared to nibble on some peanuts only minutes after I had been wondering where all the squirrels had been this winter (I actually like when the squirrels visit!).

Saturday was busy with redpolls and the consistent finches, sparrows and chickadees ransacking the black oil sunflower seeds. Meanwhile, the suet feeders went untouched but for a pair of white-breasted nuthatches and a single downy woodpecker.

The cottontails frequently visit the feeders at night, picking up fallen bits of corn and seed, but this one cozied up underneath the house sparrows' tube feeder, making peace and chowing down.

Less welcome to the celebration by its feathered fellows, this sharp-shinned hawk made a few stabs at the sparrows, then perched on a neighbor's swing set, listening to the alarmed chickadees for a bit before moving on.

As the sun began its descent on Sunday, I stepped outside to refill the feeders and snap a few quick photos of the chickadees and sparrows still hanging about the yard. Sunday had been a quieter day at the feeders. A red-bellied woodpecker being the only new species sighted for the weekend, but it was fun watching all the birds that showed up, and I plan to make the GBBC a tradition going forward.

Winter Pandemonium

Another winter storm means a day working from home and a busy morning at the backyard feeders. After work, I peeked outside to see a blizzard of birds, and flickering about the mass of house finches were a handful of juncos, common redpolls and a gorgeous purple finch female--the first purple I've seen at my feeders. Meanwhile, white-breasted nuthatch and red-bellied, downy and hairy woodpeckers swung by the hanging suet feeder, and the house sparrows guzzled down cracked corn in their little corner of the yard.