We Have Family That Live Out In The Woods In Walworth County, WI. It's Always A Treat To Visit Them,

I found the Snowy Owl! Using the recent sightings reported in the area as my guide, I went driving around Dane, WI yesterday. I stopped to scan a corn field with my binoculars and spotted this guy perched on a fence post.

I knew right away the large white bird on the post was the Snowy I was after, so I quickly grabbed my camera and got out to find a good spot to set up. Of course, as soon as I got the bird in frame he decided to fly up to the roof peak of a farm building further away. Even so, I sat down and took a few long-distance bursts in case that was only look I would get. Then I noticed that there was a house among the farm buildings. If someone was home maybe they'd let me take a closer look?

Just as I'd hoped, the folks living there were home and they were happy to let me onto their property for a chance at a better photo. They even pointed out a good spot behind a concrete wall where I could stand totally out of sight of the corn field. It turned out to be such a good blind that all the shots in this post were taken there. And just as we were talking, the Owl flew back down to that same fence post!

He was very cooperative, sitting mostly still while I fiddled with settings and let the auto-focus pick between the snow and the post. I figure he was hunting, scanning the field for little creatures. Then he did a little preening and stretched his neck before taking flight!

He didn't immediately pounce on anything, instead wheeling up toward a tree across the field. I thought he would land up there, but instead he flushed a smaller dark bird and started chasing it! Zooming in on the photos of the sortie revealed that the enemy was either a Cooper's or a Sharp-shinned Hawk. I wish I could have seen how that encounter turned out, but they flew out of sight across the field.

Even without a high-speed pursuit, seeing the Snowy Owl so close was my top birding moment of the year so far. Many thanks to Dean and Deb for welcoming me onto their property and making this moment possible!

So here's a fun one. I was up in Eagle River, WI at a friend's lake house this past September. We were out on the pontoon boat tooling around and enjoying the day. I had my 4-year-old kid on my lap when the driver says, "Bald Eagle, right ahead!"

The bird flew right over the top of the boat, maybe 50 feet up. I just barely managed to get it in frame directly above us, with my kid acting as a counterweight to keep me from tipping over backward.

[ID: An adult Bald Eagle flying with the overcast sky as a background. The bird is photographed from below. It's looking down and to its right, with wings partially extended mid-flap. It has an entirely brown body and wings, white head and tail, and yellow bill and feet. Its head is turned such that only the left eye is visible, resulting in a very serious or concentrated expression. End ID]

Now that spring is here, we're starting to see some changes in the local bird population. New faces are starting show up, and even the year-round species are out singing and generally being visible. There's territory to claim and potential mates to attract, after all. But while many species are just arriving or passing through, one that's dear to me is just about ready to depart.

[ID: A male Dark-eyed Junco stands in the newly-revealed grass and dead leaves. Juncos are small birds, about the size of a sparrow. This one is the slate-colored variety, with a dark grey head and upper body, contrasting with bright white underparts. He's facing the camera and looking slightly to the left. His eye is dark brown, nearly black, and his triangular bill is pale pink. End ID]

The Dark-eyed Juncos are strictly winter residents of southern Wisconsin, preferring to nest in Canada, the Northeast US, and parts of Appalachia. This past weekend, I could tell they had migration on their minds.

[ID: Another male Dark-eyed Junco, standing among dead twigs and sunflower seed shells. This one is darker grey in the head and breast, with lighter grey on the wings and a bit of rust color on the back. End ID]

For most of winter it's fairly common to see a solitary Junco or pairs or small groups picking through the snow under the birdfeeders in our backyard. But now they're forming a flock of at least 30 birds, foraging together and singing their loose trilling song. It's as if they know they have a long flight ahead, and every moment of daylight must be spent filling the tank and gathering their compatriots.

[ID: A male Dark-eyed Junco forages in the twigs and leaves for scattered birdseed. Juncos scrape at the ground with both feet simultaneously in a little hop, then inspect the freshly-exposed ground for tasty morsels. This one is mid-scrape, with debris flying around it. End ID]

So I decided to sit on the deck with my camera for a while to bid the Juncos farewell until next winter. I've been scattering seed back there every so often, and the other birds aren't exactly neat or careful when digging through the feeder above. As such, the Juncos have lots to choose from while poking around between the squirrels and the Mourning Doves. Once I sat down, they didn't seem to mind me at all.

[ID: A female Dark-eyed Junco inspects the ground for bits of seed. The females are distinguished from the males by their paler grey upper parts, sometimes with more brown and tan shades mixed with the grey. End ID]

Though, the birds did seem to mind when my kid joined me on the deck, brandishing his bright green snow shovel. They scattered to the trees or the fence and stayed there until I convinced him to put the shovel away in favor of coating the deck boards in a thick layer of sidewalk chalk.

[ID: A female Dark-eyed Junco sits on a wooden fence, waiting patiently for the danger posed by a nearby four-year-old to pass. The wind is catching the white feathers on her left hip and flipping them up like the flounce of a skirt. End ID]

As the sun sank lower in the sky, I figured I better get dinner started. I spent another minute or two listening to the evening birdsong before capping my lens and helping to knock the chalk dust off my kid's coat and pants. This sudden activity caused the Juncos to scatter once again. Have a safe trip little ones. I'll see you when the snow flies.

[ID: A female Dark-eyed Junco stands in the dirt, looking at the camera with head cocked to one side, as though she's wondering what this person finds so interesting about her. End ID]

[ID: A portrait of a female Rose-breasted Grosbeak. She's shown from the shoulders up, in high detail. Prominent in the frame is her big, dark eye with lines of brown and tan around her head leading to a large, pale pink beak. End ID]

Here's a picture of the most cooperative bird I've encountered in the wild. This past August, I had recently upgraded to a new camera and was on a hike with my Father-in-Law at Antigo Lake. We were slowly walking the boardwalk when I saw something moving in the bushes just on the other side of the railing.

I knew right away that it was a female Rose-breasted Grosbeak because of, you know, the huge beak. She sat just about 6 ft away and held perfectly still, allowing me to find a nice window through the branches and take a few bursts. Even though I was still learning the new equipment, I believe this remains the most detailed picture of a bird I've taken to date. Go ahead and zoom in on the eye. You can pick out all kinds of tiny feather structures that had been totally invisible to me until then, lost in either motion blur or the lower resolution of the sensor. Lately I've been seeking out birds that never sit still or won't go anywhere near people, but I should really spend more time taking portraits of birds that are more comfortable with presence.

Here's a bird that took me completely by surprise. (Content warning for a predator eating/carrying prey. I've put the more graphic pics below the cut.) Last week I was working at my dining room table, waiting for a plumber to show up. I glanced out the window and saw this Cooper's Hawk land on the neighbor's roof.

[ID: A male Cooper's Hawk stands on the roof of a house. The Hawk is mostly bluish grey with orange and white stripes on the breast and legs. He has dark red eyes and a hooked yellow beak with a grey tip. He's standing at the edge of the roof, looking off to the left. There are grey and black feathers scattered about, but the roof is blocking his prey from view. The sky in the background is an overcast grey. End ID]

Of course, I immediately jumped up and grabbed my camera. Based on the smaller size and the bluish tint to the wings, I figure the Hawk was male. I noticed right away that he was bending down to pick apart and eat something. I couldn't tell what he was eating, but I could see lots of black and grey feathers scattered about.

[ID: A male Cooper's Hawk stands on the roof of a house. The Hawk is mostly bluish grey with orange and white stripes on the breast and legs. He has dark red eyes and a hooked yellow beak with a grey tip. He's standing at the edge of the roof, looking down at his prey and lifting one yellow foot with sharp, black talons. There are grey and black feathers scattered about, but the roof is blocking his prey from view. The sky in the background is an overcast grey. End ID]

He stuck around for several minutes, which gave me some time to find a good position and adjust my settings to compensate for the overcast skies. (Picture me standing on a dining room chair, slightly crouched to line lens up with the top edge of the window.)

[ID: A male Cooper's Hawk stands on the roof of a house. The Hawk is mostly bluish grey with orange and white stripes on the breast and legs. He has dark red eyes and a hooked yellow beak with a grey tip. He's standing at the edge of the roof, looking down over the edge of the roof. There are grey and black feathers scattered about, but the roof is blocking his prey from view. The sky in the background is an overcast grey. End ID]

Just as I was taking another burst, the Hawk did a little hop to get a better grip on his meal. Go ahead and scroll past this last photo if you'd rather not see the remains of what appears to be a Downy Woodpecker. All I knew in the moment was that I had held the shutter button through the whole sequence. It was only later while processing photos that I could make out enough detail on the prey for a possible ID.

[ID: A male Cooper's Hawk is shown mid-hop in the air above the roof of a house. The Hawk is mostly bluish grey with orange and white stripes on the breast and legs. He has dark red eyes and a hooked yellow beak with a grey tip. He's just flapped his wings to hop into the air and get a better grip on his prey. The prey appears to be the remains of a Downy Woodpecker, with the head and most of the upper body torn away. However, the remaining feathers appear to have the characteristic black and white pattern on the tail to suggest either a Downy or Hairy Woodpecker. There are grey and black feathers scattered about. The sky in the background is an overcast grey. End ID]

Just after that, the Hawk flew off between the houses and was gone. It made me a little sad to think that one of our regular feeder visitors was now somebody's lunch, but it's somewhat comforting to think that our neighborhood must have a fairly healthy ecosystem. At least we have enough small birds and other prey around to convince the raptors to keep coming back to their favorite hunting grounds!

[image id: a four-page comic. it is titled “do not stand at my grave and weep” after the poem by mary elizabeth frye. the first page shows paleontologists digging up fossils at a dig. it reads, “do not stand at my grave and weep. i am not there. i do not sleep.” page two features several prehistoric creatures living in the wild. not featured but notable, each have modern descendants: horses, cetaceans, horsetail plants, and crocodilians. it reads, “i am a thousand winds that blow. i am the diamond glints on snow. i am the sunlight on ripened grain. i am the gentle autumn rain.” the third page shows archaeopteryx in the treetops and the skies, then a modern museum-goer reading the placard on a fossil display. it reads, “when you awaken in the morning’s hush, i am the swift uplifting rush, of quiet birds in circled flight. i am the soft stars that shine at night. do not stand at my grave and cry.” the fourth page shows a chicken in a field. it reads, “i am not there. i did not die” / end id]

a comic i made in about 15 hours for my school’s comic anthology. the theme was “evolution”

Banded Stilts

Photo Credit: Georgina Steytler

Folks, I picked up a lifer just down the street from my house! It was raining a bit on Sunday, so we decided to dig our raincoats out of storage and go hunt for some puddles in need of splashing. Now, I've learned my lesson over the past couple years: never leave home without the binoculars or the camera. And this time I was very glad I grabbed the bins before heading out.

[ID: A Horned Grebe floats on the blue water of Lake Monona. They are facing to the right, showing an impressive profile in the evening sunlight. The Grebe is a small ducklike creature, mostly black with smudges of brown on the flanks and throat. Their head is their most striking feature, black with piercing red eyes. Above and behind each eye a tan stripe radiates backward to create a small crest, the eponymous horns. A thin line of pink skin traces forward from the eye to join with the black dagger of a bill tipped with white. Small beads of water sit on the Grebe's back from their most recent dive below the surface. End ID]

But wait, wasn't it raining at the beginning of this story? It was! We wandered through the neighborhood for a while, mom and kid forging ahead while I lagged behind counting Sparrows and Finches. We made our way down to a park at the edge of Lake Monona. Of course, I had to go out on the dock to check the water for anything interesting. Sure enough, there were a pair of small birds bobbing with the waves, diving down to hunt, and popping back up again. I said to myself, "are those Grebes?" just before I noticed a flash of tan on their heads. Folks, I knew I had never seen a Grebe with tan on it before! I called Caitlin over, handed her the binoculars, and dashed home to grab my camera.

[ID: A Horned Grebe floats on the choppy grey water of Lake Monona. The bird appears to be drenched, but unbothered by the rain. In the low light it's just possible to make out the tan horn on their head and the brownish flank against the black body. End ID]

The above photo is a much more accurate representation of my view from Sunday. The rain began to pick up as I was returning with my camera, but I ignored the poor conditions and set up to shoot anyway. I needed to be sure of the species for my life list! So I got cozy on the downwind side of a nearby tree and started scanning the water for small black birds popping up. I did eventually relocate them, fairly far out on the lake. I was also surprised to see a Common Loon cruise by at a much closer distance.

[A Common Loon floats in profile, partially submerged, on the grey water of Lake Monona. The Loon is almost entirely black, with the white checked back and tapered white neck band characteristic of their breeding plumage. Their gently curved head and knifelike bill are jet black. End ID]

Certainly not the best pictures I've taken, but they were good enough to make a positive ID. For the time being, I would have to be content with this documentation. A couple days later, however, the clouds had passed through and we had just enough time for a walk before dinner. And it was golden hour! Perhaps the Grebes were still around?

[ID: A Horned Grebe floats on the blue water of Lake Monona. The lake is much calmer and the sunlight is reflecting off the wet feathers of the Grebe. End ID]

Not only was the Horned Grebe back at the same dock, it was much closer this time and very cooperative, turning back and forth to make sure I could see their best angles. I sat right down at the end of the dock and snapped away while my kid went looking for sticks to bash on the rocks at the shoreline. It was very peaceful sitting out by the lake, listening to the birdsong, the fitness class at the top of the hill, the captain of the rowing team calling out their orders, my son making up games about climbing the rocks and telling me all the arcane rules he just uncovered. Even the Loon came back around for another cruise.

[ID: A Common Loon floats out in the distance on the blue water of Lake Monona. End ID]