Varied Views

Last month we enjoyed a short getaway to northern Utah, including a visit to the Golden Spike National Historic Site as well as Spiral Jetty. There were birds about in both places, and while I enjoyed the variety and the grand views I had of several species I don't have occasion to see frequently, it was the varied thrush at the Golden Spike visitor center that offer the most thoughtful view.

This bird was patently uninterested in my presence, or in the presence of other guests going in and out of the visitor center, and instead continued to forage in the grassy patch right near the entrance. In and out of sunlight, coming closer and further away, turning to every angle - no birder could ask for better views of this colorful thrush that isn't often seen in Utah. How different this was from my first view of my lifer varied thrush over two years ago, when the bird stayed deep in tangled brush and only came out for quick views,  never staying in the clear.

Just because we've seen a bird before doesn't mean we can't enjoy each view we get, especially when the bird tempts us with its gorgeous color and spectacular views, unique behavior, or other treats. Each sighting is just as memorable, and these varied views certainly add to a varied life list!

Firebox Flicker

I had a rather unique wildlife experience today, one I'd not hoped to have and hope not to repeat.

Yesterday evening, my husband heard a visitor in the pipe for our wood-burning fireplace's chimney; a chimney we've never used, and the fireplace is inactive, but somehow, something got inside, despite caps on the chimney outside and no real way for entrance. We weren't sure what to do, and fearing an unpleasant rodent, we opted to leave it overnight in the hopes that whatever found its way in would find its way back out.

It didn't; this morning, the scufflings and scratchings were more insistent, driving me to distraction in my office in the next room. I called several pest control companies that could deal with wildlife, but either didn't get my calls returned or else found their prices in the hundreds of dollars range, far outside the budget I was willing to spend, despite my sincere wish to end the creature's captivity and certain misery, whatever it might be.

Without a solution, I returned to work, but in an hour or so I went to check on the fireplace again. The flue had been closed and the firebox empty; we knew the creature was trapped in the chimney itself. I took the flashlight to check and be sure it hadn't escaped into a worse prison, and the first thing I noticed was tracks - the soot in the firebox had been obviously disturbed. In a few seconds, flashing out of the sooty gloom, a northern flicker flew to the glass doors, anxious to escape but trapped in a gloomy metal box.

(Note: That is not flame in the fireplace, just reflection from the morning's sunlight. And the dust? Soot debris from the bird's escape attempts.)

No way could I leave the bird inside the box - hungry, stressed, scared. But if it got loose in the house, it would be confronted with 20-foot ceilings and innumerable perches constituting a much larger prison and one it would be much harder for me to help it escape from. First, all the doors were closed to limit the scope of area the bird could access; then a shower curtain was strung along the hallway door to remove that egress. A blanket draped from the upper bannister helped block off the stairway, at least in part. The closest outer door (just a few feet from the fireplace) was opened wide, and it was time - all my preparations were accompanied by the bird's increasingly frantic desire to escape.

Cautiously I unlatched the fireplace doors, then flung them quickly wide and stepped back to give the bird easy room to leave. A few seconds later, out he flew - straight out at first, then curving quickly for the open door and out into the blue sky, a soft shower of soot to mark his trail and my cheers echoing behind him.

Quite the traumatic experience for both of us, to be sure. My priority this weekend is to get on the roof and examine the chimney to be sure this cannot happen again, that no unfortunate bird suffers a similar spate of captivity. And as a warning to all readers out there; be sure your chimneys are equally safe!

This is Not a Bird

We get so caught up in seeing different birds visit our feeders, we often forget that other wildlife can take advantage of the bounty as well. In the past few weeks, several mice have snacked at my deck feeders, cleaning up the debris spilled by birds and helping themselves to a few choice morsels. While I don't mind mice in the abstract and the occasional sighting doesn't bother me, they've been getting a bit too familiar for my taste... Yes, the traps had to come out. Fortunately, while a few of their brethren have gone to the Great Cheese Wedge in the sky, the rest of the rodent population has decided that my deck may not be the easiest spot for a meal after all, and have abandoned the buffet. More for the birds, then.

In addition to all my backyard birds, the mice are only the latest of wildlife to join the ranks in my yard and feeders. Other transient guests have included deer (noted by the gifts they left behind), snails (which loved the smorgasboard), snakes (which loved the mice), the occasional neighborhood cat (which didn't love my reaction to their presence), one of our neighbor's dogs (just exploring), and most intriguing of all, the American mink (had to look that one up) earlier this summer.

It isn't always easy to strike a balance between what wildlife you will welcome and what you will not. The snakes and mice are most unwelcome in my yard and I take steps to discourage and trap them whenever necessary. Feral cats - or cats of any variety - are likewise unwelcome. Other critters, however, are always welcome for a passing visit, though granted, I don't know how I'd feel about their constant company.

What critters keep you company at your feeders, and how welcome are they?

Bearly Birding

Last weekend, on a short 36-hour break, I had the opportunity to return to one of the most impressive wildlife refuges I've ever seen, Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge. In Brigham City, this facility has an extensive and exceptionally lovely visitor center, and the 12-mile auto tour loop is a dozen miles of fantastic habitat and even more fantastic birds. While my husband and I weren't in the area strictly for birding, I couldn't resist, and even just a couple hours of driving amounted to a right pretty list of birds, among them...

• Eared Grebe
• Clark's Grebe
• Ruddy Duck
• Northern Harrier
• Ring-Necked Pheasant
• Killdeer
• Loggerhead Shrike
• Marsh Wren
• American Pipit
• Western Meadowlark

Perhaps the best of the birds was one of those I've seen most infrequently - the great horned owl. But it was a bittersweet sighting; I'd been hoping its roosting spot at the start of the auto tour loop would instead be occupied by a barn owl, a raptor long missing from my life list. But just because we don't always see the birds we hope for, doesn't mean we shouldn't enjoy the birds we do see. That's something that in the hustle of daily life and the stress of everyday that we too often forget.

I need to remember to get out more, no matter how short the break, and not to forget the birds.

Learn more about birding travel and get out there to see the birds!

A Mirror for Life

Getting into a back-country, isolated spot is always a peaceful, reflective experience, none more so than last weekend's trip to Mirror Lake, high in the Uinta Mountains. Right at the treeline, this calm lake sits at the base of Bald Mountain and features a fine path completely around the lake, great for birding. Granted, the wind was up a bit when we visited which meant the birds were down, but we got great looks at mountain chickadees and saw a passing flock of gray jays - a new lifer for me. But what's more, along the shores of a lake named for reflection, we had a chance to reflect on ourselves.

There is a lot of hate in today's society, whether in small degrees or large reserves, and immersion in it has kept me from birding for far too long as I deal with the consequences and make attempts to mend fences that are not only broken, but battered, shattered, and abused. There is far too much to love instead - the brilliant warbler-yellow trees in autumn, the gentle yet solid feeling of a well-worn path beneath your feet, the liquid chattering of chickadees overhead, the richness of decadent brownies given by a friend - and we're done with hating. Are there people we hate? Absolutely, and that won't go away, not by a long stretch. They know who they are, and despite what they may have deluded themselves and convinced others to believe, I can only hope they also know what they've done. When a hand is reached out only to be slapped away with lies and accusations, don't expect it to be reached out again.

May you find time to reflect this autumn, whether along the shores of a solitary lake, under the foliage of a colorful tree, or in the warmth and comfort of your own home. Reflect, let go, and let live. Then, go birding.

The Last Hummingbird

For the past few weeks I've happily refilled my hummingbird feeders with a slightly richer than typical nectar solution to help my local hummingbirds get a bit more energy for their long, demanding migrations. Several birds have taken advantage of it, but in the past week only two visited, and while they argued briefly over who should have the right of way at each perch, both took the opportunity for delicious sips and brief rests but have now vanished into the southern skies.

I've not seen any hummingbirds in several days, and as the temperatures continue to drop and the days shorten, it grows increasingly unlikely that I will see any again until next spring. Still, my feeders remained full just in case a late traveler needs a quick snack, and no matter where they may be flying or how far they have yet to go, I wish them good journey.

Do you know when hummingbird migration is?

New Birding Spot, New Bird

Utah is filled with magnificent hidey-hole birding spots that the locals know, but those of us who are still relative newcomers are unaware of. I do keep a casual eye on local hotline sightings, however, and when, late last week, news of a vagrant prothonotary warbler was being spread, I couldn't resist the temptation. A few online inquiries, a round with Google Maps, and a full tank of gas later, I was on my way to River Lane in Springville, for an obscure, out of the way edge of Provo Bay known as Sandy Beach.

When I arrived, the name was apt - the area at the tip of this small promontory is quite sandy, and a favorite for local dirt bikes and ATVs, though fortunately I had the area to myself as I began birding, watching for a quick flash of yellow. I didn't have long to wait, actually, and quickly spotted what had to be a male prothonotary warbler deep in the brush - too deep, to my dismay, for a view I'd be happy to confirm for my life list. For the next three-quarters of an hour, I wandered around the area's many short winding trails, hoping to relocate the warbler and tallying up a pleasant list of other sightings.

Finally, I was on a small rise overlooking a scrubby patch to the east and more open trees to the south, when out popped the warbler in the open trees, no more than thirty feet away. He didn't stay long, but long enough for a full, satisfying view - and another lifer for my list. I indulged in a moment of happy dance, and a few more minutes of birding about, before heading in, glad to have gotten my wings wet at birding once again.

Not only did the scrubby brush and trees of the area provide a good number of birds, but the open mudflats at the mouth of the Springville River were teeming with foraging birds. The day's bird list - casually kept with only those I could identify - included:

• Killdeer
• Great blue heron
• White-crowned sparrow
• Yellow-rumped warbler
• American pipit
• American white pelican
• Green-tailed towhee
• American avocet
• Black-capped chickadee
• Northern flicker
• Ruby-crowned kinglet
• Downy woodpecker
• Spotted towhee
• American robin
• American coot

There were also a number of gulls, an indeterminate falcon, at least one more type of warbler, and either a Clark's grebe or western grebe present. Quite the day, and a lifer to boot - I'll certainly be back again!

The warbler I saw was a vagrant - learn about vagrant birds and how to see them!

Snail Smorgasbord

While I love watching the birds, and autumn is a fantastic time at my feeders - the black-capped chickadees, in particular, have been around much more lately, and yesterday I narrowly missed identifying a new warbler for the year (oh well, next time) - it's not just birds that enjoy the handouts I provide. We had some welcome drizzles a couple of evenings ago, and the snails took full advantage all over our walk and driveway. I was surprised, however, to find the platform feeders on my deck had become a smorgasbord to a dozen snails by morning.

The feeders on my deck are a range of terra cotta dishes of different heights and sizes, and the snails had eagerly found their way into the largest, lowest dish where I offer mixed seed for the house sparrows and house finches (millet, milo, and sunflower seeds). They were deliberately making their way over the seeds, and while plant matter is food for snails, I'm not sure how much they actually ate. Fortunately, they didn't linger over the meal too long and were gone as the morning advanced, or else they'd likely have ended up as snacks themselves for the western scrub-jays and black-billed magpies.

Of course, they are welcome - I'm fascinated by snails and their deliberateness. They are great pollinators and do more good than harm in my yard, so as long as they're willing to climb the steps to the deck and tempt the appetites of the birds that might find them, they're welcome to take their place in the buffet line.