I Guess I'm An Owl Guy Now. Just Last Week I Learned About An Eastern Screech-Owl Pair That Has Been

I've been spending a good deal of time outside, what with spring migration going on in Wisconsin. Some of this is simply sitting in my back yard and staring up at the trees, watching for bird shapes. But we also carved out a weekend to attend the Horicon Marsh Bird Festival. I really ought to do a longer post on the great things we saw there, but this one is about Barn Swallows.

[ID: A Barn Swallow sits on the edge of a steel roof. They have a dark blue head and wings, buffy yellow underparts, and orange on the face, throat, and a narrow fringe along the top of the breast. The Swallow is looking off to the right with one large dark eye showing. They have a little mud caked on their bill, with more flecks on their chin and head. End ID]

This individual is one of many that have recently arrived at Horicon Marsh and were building nests around the visitor's center. They build their nests by scooping up small bits of mud in their beaks and sticking it to a wall, the underside of a dock, and yes, even a barn. You can tell these two have been working on their nests because of the messes on their faces.

[ID: Two Barn Swallows rest on the edge of a steel roof. They are spaced just a few inches apart, both looking off to the right. End ID]

I wanted to share this series for a couple reasons. First, I was terribly charmed by the sight of a couple Swallows sitting just a few feet from the main entrance of the Visitor's Center, with no concern for the people walking in and out of the building right past them. They probably flew thousands of miles to get to this spot, and now they're spending all day flying literal teaspoons of mud back and forth to build a temporary home for their kids. Second, I knew I could get some really nice portraits with such a close encounter.

[ID: A portrait of a Barn Swallow, one of the same two pictured above. At this close distance, it's possible to pick out the individual feathers on the Swallow's face, specks of mud on their bill, and the reflection of the clouds and the horizon in their eye. End ID]

I'm sure they're tired from all the hard work. They seemed completely unbothered by us standing so close, but also not terribly interested in the traffic on the sidewalk.

[ID: A Barn Swallow looks over at the camera. Their bill turns down slightly at the corners, making for the appears of a small frown. End ID]

This one did glance in my direction long enough to capture an expression that reads to me like mild disinterest. But then they went right back to staring out at the parking lot, not really making any noise or even appearing to communicate with one another. I'd like to think they enjoy sharing a moment of quiet contemplation with a friend.

I picked up a lifer, folks! We were canoeing along the Mississippi River a couple weeks ago, on a camping trip at Merrick State Park. I was keeping a bird list from the back of the canoe, likely doing less than my fair share of paddling, when I saw a shockingly yellow bird on the shore.

[ID: A pair of Prothonotary Warblers are perched on the same thin branch of a tree. The branch is running vertically across the frame with an adult male clinging to the upper part and a juvenile sitting just below him and looking upward. The male has an incredibly bright yellow head and body. His upper wings and back are green, and his wings change to grey-blue as they extend backward to the primary flight feathers. He has a sharp black beak and a shiny black eye. The juvenile is looking up at the male, mouth open and begging for something to eat. Their body is mostly pale grey, with a few patches of yellow on their throat and sides. They look a bit shaggier compared to the sleek feathers of the adult male. End ID]

I remember exclaiming to my partner, "It's a Warbler! Could that be a Prothonotary?", right before it disappeared into the trees. When she turned around to look, another Warbler appeared in the same spot, but this one was duller yellow. I quietly cursed my lack of a camera (the protection plan explicitly does not cover dropping it into a river), and pulled out my phone to try to pick up any songs. Sure enough, Merlin confirmed the quiet trilling as a Prothonotary! We steered the canoe back around to try for a better look, but they were gone.

[ID: A female Prothonotary Warbler clings to the end of a tiny branch with wispy silk strands on it. She's distinguished from the male by a somewhat duller yellow on her head and back, but otherwise looks very much like her mate. She's collecting what appears to be insect larvae with her bill, which look like tiny grains of white rice. End ID]

Needless to say, I was excited at seeing a new species and lamenting the addition of that same species to my "no pics" list. Later on we were relaxing at the campsite and reading our books when my partner says, "Clay, come here! Is this your bird?! They're chasing each other!" This time I could snatch up my camera before joining her at the edge of the site. And she was right! We had several little Prothonotaries flitting around and peeping at each other. After watching for a few minutes, I realized it was multiple juveniles being fed by their their parents. The kids must have just recently fledged, as they were sitting in very conspicuous places and yelling for food while mom and dad were shuttling tasty bits back and forth.

[ID: An adult male Prothonotary Warbler feeds a juvenile. The same male from the first image is perched on a branch in the sunlight, placing something directly into the mouth of his child. From this angle, the color differences between parent and child are very apparent, with the child looking almost entirely grey on their upper parts, aside from a few streaks of dull green along the back. End ID]

I was feeling incredibly fortunate to get a better look at these energetic birds, but it was tough to keep them in the frame. I found that the kids would generally pick a spot out in the open where they could make lots of noise and be sure their parents could find them. If I stayed on a child, I could be sure that a parent would be returning very soon. I also realized that it wasn't just the fledglings peeping frantically for food. Dad was staying mostly silent while foraging down in the understory, but he would give a few quick peeps after finding something to eat. It felt a lot like he was saying, "I found a bug! Where are you? Come and get it!"

[ID: A juvenile Prothonotary Warbler sits on a branch, waiting for their next bit of food. Their bill is open and wings are slightly extended, fluttering in what must be the universal dance for telling your parent that you're hungry. If you are a small bird, that is. End ID]

I must have spent an hour just following these babies down the little access road for driving up to the campsites, taking tons of photos and watching for brief glimpses of a parent. I moved slowly and calmly so as not to disturb them, but they seemed to go about their business as though I wasn't even there. The kids stuck mostly to the edges of the woods, at eye level or higher, but dad was up in the trees, down in the open grass, and just about anywhere you might find a spider or a gnat. He was often flying within a foot or two of me as he crossed the road in tireless pursuit of his goal.

[ID: A juvenile Prothonotary Warbler poses on a branch, patiently waiting for food this time. The bird is well-lit and sitting in front of a very dark patch of forest, which makes the background look almost black. This juvenile has more dull green on their face and flanks where the others were more grey and yellow, but they have the same shaggy appearance of being just recently fledged. End ID]

Thinking back, the experience was almost surreal. I knew I was walking down a paved road in a sold-out campsite, but I was in this little pocket of existence, watching these devoted parents do everything they could to make sure their children would grow up strong and healthy. For this little family, in the few weeks where this river bank has everything they need, the rest of the world might as well not be there.

So it's this fan-created film preservation of the original Star Wars trilogy films. An English teacher named Petr Harmáček led a project with eight other fans to undo the various alterations made by Lucas in the 1997, 2004, and 2011 home video releases, calling the edits "an act of cultural vandalism". They used photoshop and rotoscoping techniques to

[ID: A pair of Tundra Swans are swimming on a pond close to one another. They are facing the camera and the Swan on the right is leaning close the one on the left and appears to be yelling right into their companion's ear. The Swan on the left appears to be staring into the middle distance, not necessarily listening. 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]

Our summer vacation for 2022 was a road trip through the Dakotas, with brief dips into Montana and Wyoming. I was impossibly excited for the trip, as it was the first time since I started birding that we'd be seeing birds of the Western United States. Even better, it was right at the start of nesting season in June. Every stop held the possibility of a lifer, including this beauty.

[ID: A female Mountain Bluebird clings to a bare branch on a small shrub, standing in profile. Her body and head are subtle variations of whites and greys. She has a bright white eye ring, black bill and feet, and thin black lines bordering hints of brilliant blue in her wingtips and tail. The background is the out-of-focus greens and browns of a prairie dog town. End ID]

This is a female Mountain Bluebird. We found her while exploring one of the prairie dog towns in Theodore Roosevelt National Park. Every variety of North American bluebird is lovely, but I remember being struck by the subtle variation of whites and greys and barest hints of brilliant blue in her wingtips and tail. I hadn't seen anything like her in my explorations to that point, so I knew I was seeing the species for the first time. It's always special when you encounter a new species and they seem to be checking you out just as closely as you're scrutinizing them.

I logged my 200th bird species for Wisconsin! I got a great tip from a close friend, who knows about these things, that a Hooded Warbler had appeared in a park near my house.

[ID: A male Hooded Warbler perches on a mossy branch in the forest. His body is just a couple inches long, with green feathers on back, wings, and tail, and dull yellow for the underparts. His "hood" is a black cowl that covers almost his entire head save for a bright yellow mask that extends in an oval from the middle of his face to surround the eye and ear on each side. He has a pointy dark gray bill shaped for picking insects off of trees, and his eye is a reflective jet black that stands out against the yellow mask. End ID]

The next morning, I packed up my camera along with my work bag and took a break from my commute to check out the park. I arrived to find several people wandering the trails, here to do the exact same thing as me. None of them had seen the Hoodie yet, but they had a wealth of information from other birders on the movements and general behavior of the bird from the past couple days. I spent at least 45 minutes wandering the trails, squishing through the damp and the mud in my work slacks and sneakers. I logged five firsts for 2024, but no sign of the elusive Hooded Warbler.

[ID: The Hooded Warbler perches on the same mossy branch, this time facing away from the camera and looking up into the treetops. His wings are neatly folded behind his back, making a pleasing pattern with the tips of the primary flight feathers. End ID]

So I left the park for work, but decided I should come back in the evening. I knew from the sighting reports in eBird that this guy is active all day. When I got back to the park, it was cloudy and drizzling. I met a pair of nice young women with binoculars and a camera lens as long as mine. I asked, "Are you here looking for the Hooded Warbler too?"

One of them said very casually, "Oh yeah, it's right over there across the creek. Just flittering around." So of course I had to get eyes on him and try to get a photo. It was only a couple minutes before he came out again and started working the far bank of the creek.

[ID: The same Hooded Warbler, this time perched deeper in the brush and looking toward the camera. This angle provides a better view of the black hood and bright yellow mask, looking delicately fringed around the edges. End ID]

I probably followed the Hoodie down the creek for like 10 minutes before he decided to cross over to our side to do some more foraging. I froze. He was almost completely hidden in the brush, but I could see bits of movement and kept him in the frame the whole time. I knew I couldn't make any sudden moves without scaring him away. For a brief moment, he came out to take a closer look at me, which is where all the photos in this post came from. I only managed to shoot three bursts while he was completely out in the open before he took off for the far side of the creek again.

[ID: The Hooded Warbler looks directly at the camera, only partially obscured by a twig. His posture suggests being ready to leap forward and continue the hunt for insects. End ID]

I was left feeling incredibly amped. The other photographer and I had to share back-of-the-camera shots and gush over how cute he was and how close he came to us. It seems it's always a special event when a rare or unusual species shows up in town. I love these brief moments of connection with birds and the people that care about them.

[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.

Last weekend I was planning to drive out to the west side to pick up a load of birdseed. My coworker had told me that he was out at Tiedeman's Pond the other day, and I said to myself, "I bet there's ducks on that pond. I better go check." So I grabbed my camera bag on the way out the door. And folks? There were ducks.

[ID: A male Wood Duck swims on a pond of rippling blue water from left to right. The duck is presenting his entire profile to the camera, from glossy green head to dark tail tip. He has a brown body, more burgundy at the breast, with finely scaled tan and gray flanks and just a hint of teal peeking through on the wing. Each color patch is bordered with a brilliant white stripe, including a lovely pattern on the face and head. His head feathers are swept back in a longish crest that looks black except for the iridescent green where the sun has caught it. This contrasts with a striking bill in orange gradients with a white patch on top and black tip. His eye is a bold fire engine red. End ID]

I was surprised to find multiple pairs of Wood Ducks very close to the edge of the pond, because these guys will usually fly at the first sign of a human in the area. I can only assume they were desensitized by the frequent groups of walkers out with their kids and their dogs.

There were lots of other ducks to be seen: Lesser Scaups, Hooded Mergansers, Buffleheads, Ruddy Ducks, Mallards. But most of these were way out at the center of the pond and not interested in being photographed. The only exception being a small group of Ring-necked Ducks that were diving for food near the cattails.

[ID: A male Ring-necked Duck swims from right to left on the pond. It is glossy black, with light gray flanks fading to white towards the front. His bill is medium gray in the middle, black on the tip, with a bright white border around the edges, circling the nostrils, and separating gray from black. His eye is yellow orange. His feathers are beaded with water droplets from diving for food. End ID]

But it wasn't just ducks on offer that day! Spring means birds migrating back from the south and hungry from the long flight. I got to watch a pair of Great Blue Herons show up and immediately begin hunting.

[ID: A Great Blue Heron is standing in a pond, with a freshly-caught goldfish in its bill. The Heron is standing with its legs completely submerged in the water, with its long neck coiled back as it pulls up the large goldfish. The Heron is several feet tall, mostly gray, with white on their head and a dark blue cap with long trailing feathers at the back. The goldfish is at least eight inches long, and the Heron appears to have speared it on their long upper mandible, which glows orange from the bright sunlight filtering through from behind. End ID]

I was very happy to see that the Herons were doing their part to control the non-native fish population. This one had speared a very large goldfish, and had to think a minute about how to eat it. They dropped the goldfish back in the water only to recapture it for swallowing head-first. Their partner looked on from a short distance away, not having found anything while I was there.

[ID: A second Great Blue Heron slowly wades by, hunting in the shallow part of the pond. This one shows a flash of dark-blue tail feathers, and the direct sunlight offers a nice view of their bright yellow dagger of a bill and their pale yellow eye rimmed in baby blue skin. End ID]

And it wasn't just water birds that were attracted to the awakening pond. This American Crow flew down to the edge to see what small morsels might be crawling around in the mud.

[ID: An American Crow stands at the edge of the pond. The Crow is facing away from the camera, with the sunlight glinting off their glossy black feathers. They are looking toward the camera in profile, showing one brown eye and a chunky black bill. End ID]

The Black-capped Chickadees were out too. This pair had found a nice little tree cavity, and they may have been excavating it further to use as a nest.

[ID: A Black-capped Chickadee peeks out from a tree hollow, holding a small bit of something in their bill. They are just a couple inches tall, with a gray and tan body, and a predominantly black head. They have white cheeks that start at the small black bill and extend back to the neck. They are staring inquisitively at the camera, with little bits of what looks like wood stuck to their face. End ID]

The two Chickadees seemed to be working in shifts, one keeping watch outside while the other one went in to prep the house. I wonder how many generations of birds have grown up in that little knothole...

[ID: A second Black-capped Chickadee perches on a thin branch with delicate feet. They are sitting very still, keeping watch while their partner works in a nearby tree cavity. There are a few tiny flecks of what might be wood on their face. End ID]

Though, the bird that gave me the most excitement on this walk was a new one. My partner teases me, saying that I have to check every seagull to see whether they're a Herring or a Ring-billed. But on this day I had found a Bonaparte's Gull!

[ID: A Bonaparte's Gull floats out in the middle of the pond. The Gull is white with light gray wings and black wingtips. Their head is mostly gray with patches of white, possibly because they're in the middle of molting to grow their breeding plumage. End ID]

The Gull was hanging out with a nice flock of Lesser Scaups, and I knew I had a lifer in my binoculars as soon as I saw that gray head. Every so often it would take off and fly around the pond, looking for tasty fish to snatch from the surface. They never wandered all that close to me, but I got a few nice shots of those wings.

[ID: The Bonaparte's Gull flies low over the pond, on the hunt for small fish. With wings fully extended, it is apparent that the black wingtips are just a thin crescent at the tip of each primary flight feathers. The Gull is in the middle of a down stroke, head forward, orange feet tucked neatly beneath fanned gray tail. End ID]

For only visiting on a whim, this was a very productive walk. I saw 35 bird species, seven for the first time this year, and one for the first time ever. I suppose that's why birders wait all year for spring migration to start.