Friday Feathered Feature

American Woodcock

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An unlikely candidate for one of the most beloved birds of spring, this squat, neckless weirdo nevertheless invokes breathlessness upon seeing its spring mating ritual. Belonging to a family of water-associated shorebirds, this bird somehow ended up living its life away from water in early successional woodland, shrubland, and grassland. Its heavy looking body and short legs are not all that unusual when compared to its buzzy and bug-like “peeent” call that the males make during courtship. Is this bird an ugly duckling? Well, not exactly.

Though its mish-mashed body and habits suggest drunken design, the American woodcock somehow maintains a level of coolness and popularity that overcomes its oddness. These birds can be reliably found in open areas surrounding woods, savannas, and thickets. Their performances begin at dusk, starting with a single peent and climaxing here at Faville Grove with dozens of birds peenting, twittering skyward higher and higher, and falling from the sky like a shot plane, only to land in about the same spot with a declaritive “peent!”—a reaffirming declaration that the woodcock did indeed survive what looked like its certain death.

American woodcock overwinter in the Gulf states and have returned to Wisconsin in the past month or so, migrating in darkness over Midwestern states. You can see their wonderful mating displays on Madison Audubon's free field trip on April 18 from 6:30-8:30pm at Faville Grove Sanctuary. We will meet at the kiosk at W7480 Prairie Lane. This date happens to be one day after the median egg laying date, according to the first Breeding Bird Atlas.

Just a week ago, we led two visitors on a cold and gray evening to watch the woodcock. Our expectations weren't high. As we settled into our spots along the ledge savanna, it soon became clear that we were at the center of the stage for these performing birds. Woodcock came flying out from the savanna right at our heads, twittering as they ascended into the slate gray heavens. One bird reached its peak in the sky, then fell earthward chirping and making a whistling noise as air passed through its primaries, and landed not ten feet from us. It sat there and peented, this squat and singular little bird, delighting the viewers for about a minute. What a strange and delightful spectacle.

Photo by USFWS Midwest

Photo by USFWS Midwest

Woodcock also have a strange effect on other birds. Where woodcock are found peenting and displaying, bird numbers and diversity are more than 1.5 times higher than in random forest plots. In part, this makes sense because of the diversity of habitats that woodcock use, from foraging in oak woods during the day, to performing in open prairies in the evening, to nesting near shrub thickets or at the base of trees. Come join us next week and enjoy the spectacle of the woodcock at Faville Grove!

Written by Drew Harry, Faville Grove Sanctuary land steward

Cover photo by Doug Greenberg

Golden Eagle

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Ted is an excellent observer and ornithologist! He worked in the fall of 2016 at Veracruz, Mexico, which is host to the greatest raptor migration spectacle in the world. More than 25 species of migrating raptors are recorded each autumn, with counts…

Ted is an excellent observer and ornithologist! He worked in the fall of 2016 at Veracruz, Mexico, which is host to the greatest raptor migration spectacle in the world. More than 25 species of migrating raptors are recorded each autumn, with counts reaching more than 100,000 migrant raptors and vultures per day during the peak of the flight. An additional 10 million daytime passerine and water birds migrate as well. He reported that his best count day in Mexico was when he recorded over 200,000 raptors and vultures. Almost 4 million raptors and vultures were counted throughout that fall. Last spring, Ted also helped count around 500,000 raptors in Israel at a migration site that holds the record for the largest spring migration.

On March 19, Ted Keyel, a former Goose Pond Sanctuary intern, entered his Goose Pond observations on eBird saying, “Pretty surreal experience. I was watching the geese and swans when they became very agitated and started to flush. I saw a large raptor coming in, and presumed it to be a Bald Eagle, until it banked and I got a clear view of the wing profile. Rounded bulging secondaries of a Golden opposed to the very even trailing edge of a Bald. The small head and proportionately longer tail were also obvious. As I continued watching it, I saw darker coverts than remiges, (large flight feathers) and a dark tail with darker tip. The sun even reflected well off the head. I've never seen a Golden Eagle hunt geese before, although it seemed to give up pretty quickly. It then caught a thermal and rose higher and higher before I lost it.” 

Late the next afternoon, Sue looking west out of the kitchen window watched two Canada geese as they flew over the yard heading east toward the pond.  Suddenly, a golden eagle approached them from the north and broke up the pair in mid-air. “The whole scene reminded me that these large eagles have to be on the hunt at all times, looking for the opportunity to make a kill”. The large raptor did not circle back in pursuit of the geese, rather it left the scene and the geese made a bee-line for the safely of Goose Pond.

Ted's golden eagle capture on March 19 at Goose Pond. Photo by Ted Keyel

Ted's golden eagle capture on March 19 at Goose Pond. Photo by Ted Keyel

Sam Robbins in 1991 wrote in Wisconsin Birdlife that golden eagles are “rare spring migrants”. From 1960 to 1990 he was able to locate only one record in late fall of a golden eagle in Columbia County. Robbins also reported a nesting pair of golden eagles from Ferry Bluff in Sauk County around 1905 to 1907. In 1908 the pair was shot by a local farmer.

Golden eagles with a seven-foot wingspan are the largest raptor in North American. They are the most widely distributed eagle, being found throughout the Northern hemisphere and are also found in the old world from Finland to Japan.

Photo by Tony's Takes Photography

Photo by Tony's Takes Photography

They are incredible hunters and are able to spot prey over two miles away, make dives after prey between 150 to 200 miles per hour, and can squeeze their talon with a force of between 400 to 750 pounds per square inch. They hunt a wide variety of prey including jack rabbits, badgers, cranes, and swans. Many people have watched the YouTube videos of a golden eagle knocking a mountain goat off a cliff, or a father and son with their golden eagle hunting fox in Mongolia. We will never forget our sighting of a golden eagle flying high over Teddy Roosevelt National Park carrying a prairie dog!

In Wisconsin, during the winter golden eagles can feed on deer carcasses and hunt wild turkeys. The National Eagle Center in Wabesha, Minnesota conducts a golden eagle count in January in Wisconsin, Minnesota, and Iowa. They usually tally over 100 golden eagles in Wisconsin. Many goldens are found on prairie bluffs in Buffalo County.

Photo by Eric Begin

Photo by Eric Begin

Many people think that our wintering population is from the western great plains and mountain states; however, eagle biologists with the use of transmitters have found that our overwintering golden eagle population summers in the high arctic in the Northwest Territories.

We hope you will be lucky to find some birds at Goose Pond Sanctuary this spring that you will remember for years to come.

Written by Mark Martin and Susan Foote-Martin, Goose Pond Sanctuary Managers

Cover photo by Tony's Takes Photography

Eastern Bluebird

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Photo by Pat Ready

Photo by Pat Ready

Very few in modern America, outside of those that read articles such as these, know the joy of spring birds like the eastern bluebird. It's with regret that I reference modern America, for modern America has been terminally slipping according to those citing modern America. Yet, according to research by the US Fish and Wildlife Service, only 5% of Americans watch birds “away from home.” That number increases to 10% of the population when you include those who watch birds at home, but who could recognize a bluebird in their yard while failing to recognize one on a country road, at the park, or around the neighborhood? The answer is apparently 20 million people. Those people, I suspect, cannot tell a bluebird from a blue bird: an eastern bluebird from a mountain bluebird from a bluejay from an indigo bunting.

Photo by Pat Ready

Photo by Pat Ready

I once knew spring without bluebirds. I identified spring with Easter, March Madness, baseball, and a sudden flush of green on the landscape that meant the lawn must be mowed. The calendar dictated these events, mostly. Soon I learned that spring cleaning includes not just vacuuming and window washing but also bluebird box cleaning—and spring was instantly enriched. I also learned that bluebirds are not unlike people—they hold a wide berth of opinions.

Some bluebirds, first arriving on March 4 of this year, believe it is reasonable to start planning for spring well before it is fashionable to do so. A March 6 snowstorm puts into question their resultant migration, but, and I hate to say it, bluebirds have cliches just the same as people, and the early bird gets the worm. Cutworms found in lawns are a favorite food, and beetles, crickets, grasshoppers, and spiders make up a large percentage of their diet during the growing season. But those food sources are scarce on March 4, and my backyard birds rely on juniper berries, grape, sumac, and Virginia creeper to sate their hunger.

Other bluebirds have arrived tardy, and on the past few mornings their soft and melodious songs have echoed me awake, only for their pastel blue wings to delight the branches of oak trees, their round bodies gracefully flapping in the gutter on the roof. These birds scope out nest boxes around my house, and that old drama unfolds as males (brightly colored blue above with rusty breasts) chase females (subtler grayish above with brownish breasts) who are waiting for males to chase away other males.

Female eastern bluebird. Photo by Pat Ready

Female eastern bluebird. Photo by Pat Ready

Those nest boxes have increased bluebird populations across Wisconsin since declines in the 1960's and 70's, thanks largely to the Bluebird Restoration Association of Wisconsin. Today, these birds are likely to be found in urban, suburban, and rural environments where they can find a nest box or natural cavity for nesting.

The relocation of a nest box last year to a position viewable from my window cued me into the ecology of bluebird life. I saw the nest, fine dried grasses and stems, with two eggs, within the average clutch size of 2-7. This pair was a second brood attempt, and I witnessed the trope of an evil villain emerge as house sparrows bombarded the parent bluebirds, a chronic occurrence in bluebird circles. As June broke into its second week, the parents' concentration seemed to break as well, and the house sparrows' repeated attacks eventually led to one of the eggs being lost. I intervened, when possible, and waved away the marauding birds. Eventually the egg hatched, and at about 14 days, right on average, the chick fledged out of the box, a welcome sigh of relief for a bluebird box I had become wholly invested in.

Photo by Pat Ready

Photo by Pat Ready

There is drama in each of the seasons, and with the return of spring comes the drama of the liquid warble of bluebirds at Faville Grove, as sure a metaphor for spring as any. Spring is a beautiful, bounding, bountiful thing. For some, spring is, as Aldo Leopold said, “a goose cleaving the murk of March thaw.” For others spring is a sandhill crane, turkey vulture, bluebird, or swallow. Admittedly, spring is spring and I cannot pick one embodiment of a season so diverse. Rather it is with reluctance that I resort to cliches to describe the season, for, if it's possible, I find spring a refreshing and unexpected cliché—like the bright March bluebird.


Written by Drew Harry, Faville Grove Sanctuary land steward

Horned Lark

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The horned lark decorates fields and short grassy lands on late March mornings, providing a subtle cue that winter wanes. With a yellow face, a black mask, and horn-like feathers that stick straight up, these birds provide solace through a March snowstorm, singing all the while (listen to the horned lark's song and calls here). Horned larks are common continent-wide, from central Mexico to the upper reaches of Canada and Alaska. In Wisconsin, the birds can frequently be found in farm fields and open areas with little vegetation.

Photo by Monica Hall

Photo by Monica Hall

These birds, a pleasant sight throughout their winter spent in Wisconsin, can light up a snow field with their yellow faces contrasting against the glistening white. When the snow melts, however, their brown dirt-colored feathers camouflage well into the forty of a farm field—you'll have to watch for that flash of yellow as you scan a field.

Nests come surprisingly early, and nests with eggs can be found in late March. Even by mid-March, however, most birders have seen migrating flocks of geese and ducks, cranes and blackbirds—wanderlust sets in.

Horned lark eggs tucked into their nest amongst the grasses. Photo by Carolyn Byers

Horned lark eggs tucked into their nest amongst the grasses. Photo by Carolyn Byers

It's easy to forget the horned lark, a diminutive bird nesting in the dull habitat of farm fields. Despite the delight this bird brings in winter, it is soon passed over for bigger and smaller and better birds come spring. This is a shame, for it is the only lark native to North America and its twinkling jingle of a song reminds us of a winter that was and is a sure sign that eggs are on the way—eggs that better be quick because the field must be planted eventually.

You can spot horned larks at Faville Grove down Prairie Lane in farm fields and recently burned prairies. It's beautiful down by the Crawfish River right now with migrating Canada and white-fronted geese, sandhill cranes, and ducks. The visual spectacle—fabulous in its own right—dwindles in comparison to the auditory riot it creates on these March wetlands. Again, it's easy to bypass the horned lark for these bigger and more attention-grabbing scenes, but appreciate its faithful residence on Wisconsin corn stubble and a life that's easily overlooked .

Written by Drew Harry, Faville Grove Sanctuary land steward

 

Banner photo by Jeff Bryant

 

Northern Pintail

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Arlie (A.W.) Schorger, 2018 inductee into the Wisconsin Conservation Hall of Fame and author of historical accounts on Wisconsin’s wildlife species, described the arrival of the pintails thus: “The sight of a flock of pintails flying low over a marsh on a March morning renders the observer oblivious to chilling winds. The long neck, long tail and white underparts of the male produce the mirage of a frigate under full sail.” Pintails were called sprigs by early hunters in the 1800s with "sprig" being short for "sprig-tail.

Northern pintail, photo by Monica Hall

Northern pintail, photo by Monica Hall

Pintails, of course, are named for their elongated central tail feathers, which constitute one-fourth of the drake's body length. Pintails are a prairie species and Wisconsin is at the southeastern fringe of their breeding range. Northern pintails have the widest distribution of any waterfowl species world-wide and are also found in Europe, the Middle East, India, and Asia. They migrate long distances and there is a report of a pintail that flew nonstop for 1,800 miles. The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service estimated pintail numbers in 2017 at 2,900,000 compared to a long-term average of 4,000,000.

Pintails are the earliest nesting duck in North America and nest farther from water than other ducks. The female likes to nest in an open area with short vegetation. In the Dakotas and Canada pintails like to nest in winter wheat fields.

We noticed the first pintails at Goose Pond this year on March 5 while driving along Kampen Road adjacent to our flooded food plot. As we went by hundreds of ducks near the road rose in a dense cloud. What stood out was a flock of 25-30 pintails; as usual drakes outnumbered hens. There were around 2,000 ducks, including over 1,900 mallards along with a wood ducks, black ducks, and green-winged teal in shallow water feasting on sunflower and foxtail seeds.

Photo by Monica Hall

Photo by Monica Hall

Sam Robbins in 1991 wrote in Wisconsin Birdlife that pintails are common migrants and uncommon summer residents. “Usually sprigs reach most southern areas by March 20th…” With the rain and warm temperatures in late February and early March waterfowl returned to Goose Pond much earlier than usual. Pintails also stop at Goose Pond in fall migration. The highest number of pintails recorded at Goose Pond was our October 25, 2008 observation of 120 pintails.

In 1973, March, Martz, and Hunt estimated an annual average breeding population of 1,300 pintails in the Badger State. Their breeding numbers in Wisconsin have been on the decline since the 1970s and 1980s. The first breeding bird atlas project (1995-2000) contained only one confirmed nesting report – a brood in Burnett County. We obtained a record of a pair that probably nested near Poynette and another possible nesting occurred in Ozaukee County during the first atlas project. After the third year of Atlas II, there have been no confirmed nesting records for pintails in Wisconsin.

Photo by Richard Armstrong

Photo by Richard Armstrong

The pintails are one of our favorite ducks. Sue enjoyed spending many hours carving and painting a full-sized drake pintail in breeding plumage.

This year the water levels are very high in southern Wisconsin and hopefully there will be pairs observed in May and a few broods observed in June. We hope you can visit Goose Pond in spring migration and enjoy the sprigs.  

Written by Mark Martin and Sue Foote-Martin, Goose Pond Sanctuary resident managers