From Birds at Peninsula, 05/02/2010, posted by Karin Hankwitz on 5/04/2010 (14 items)

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Other birds seen or heard but not photographed:

• 2 Semipalmated Sandpipers (Weborg Marsh)
• 1 Black-Throated Green Warbler (Weborg Marsh)
• Multiple White-Throated Sparrows (Weborg Point)
• Multiple Yellow-Rumped (Myrtle) Warblers (Weborg Point)
• 1 Brewers Blackbird (Weborg Point)
• Multiple Red-Winged Blackbirds (including 1 female, Weborg Marsh)
• 3 Turkey Vultures

That’s not rain. It’s birds! :) Welcome back, little guys!!

From The Hepatica Gallery, posted by Karin Hankwitz on 4/15/2010 (4 items)

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The Quad Cities had the best bird signatures of all, kind of a big GLOB of birds moving northwesterly right smack dab over QC.

There was a strong influx of birds from the southeast on the Duluth, MN radar.

The Milwaukee, WI radar showed SSE-to-NNW activity up through the central part of the state of Wisconsin. It  also showed big clouds of pollution billowing out over Lake Michigan from both Chicago and Milwaukee, then getting picked up by the prevailing southerly wind over the water, and blowing north.

The Green Bay, WI radar showed very faint SE-to-NW signatures of birds moving up through the central part of the state, as well. Movement within +/- 50 miles of the lakeshore wasn’t evident, so it will be interesting to see if there was significant bird movement overnight or not.

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You can find a beautiful little patch of it at the head of Hemlock Trail, which is a hiking trail just across the street from Weborg Point campground.

More info about Bloodroot HERE (wikipedia).

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Nothing has really changed between Thursday (pre-weekend) and Friday (officially the weekend) — the weather is still sort of crummy (50′s and cloudy more often than not) and there is no magic “feeling” of anything, marking the significance of one day to the next.

Sea of Blue Forget-Me-Nots

But what has changed is the magical flourishing of green upon the landscape; everything has literally just sprung to life. It is truly boggling, and amazing, and beautiful. And with it has come a full-court press of Little Birds. What has felt like a slooooooooowwwwwww process this spring (I never did see any teals, wigeons, shovelers, etc.?) has finally truly picked up steam. :)

Perfect still evening on the Bay

I took my sandwich and salad from the Northern Grill down to Peninsula State Park, and picked Weborg Point as the most likely place to have some wildlife/bird activity. It was perfect! Seriously, if I could enjoy a simple sandwich at Weborg Point every day for the rest of my life, my life would be utterly complete. It is impossible to improve upon perfection!

View of the Strawberry Channel from my picnic table

A few flittery warblers caught my eye over where another couple was eating. The birds were a few feet too close for my 10×50′s, but were too far to make out with the naked eye. So I obligingly ate while admiring the gorgeous view across the bay and Strawberry Channel.

But then, a couple of bites into my burger, I saw several gazillion warblers in the trees over my head and behind me! Gack! I unceremoniously shoved a couple more bites in my mouth, snapped the lid shut (warbler poop on my sandwich did not appeal, no matter how pretty the birds are) and grabbed my binocs. And watched the show.

My first catch was a female Yellow Warbler, and shortly thereafter a male Yellow Warbler. I didn’t have my bird guide with me, so was hoping that the rusty streaking on the male’s breast had bought me a 2nd species. No dice though. :) I also finally spied several Black-and-White Warblers, which just made my day, because I’ve been listening to the little buggers for 6 weeks now but haven’t been able to spot one!!

Wood Pewee on a snag, watching for bugs

I was also entertained right from my picnic bench by a delightful little Eastern Wood Pewee.  This little fellow had it totally figured out. He found an old snag poking up in the middle of a number of trees, but open to the grassy area. He sat atop the snag, watching for bugs. Then when he saw one (several?) he’d take off and flit around in circle, catch it, and return to the tree. It was sort of like tight circular bomber runs, and he did this over and over and over again.

There was also a Black-Throated Green Warbler, another happy sight because I’ve also been listening to them for the last 3-odd weeks, but finding them as they sit stock-still in a tree and sing is pretty much impossible. It’s  ridiculous; their coloring makes them totally indistinguishable from a semi-sprouted leaf on a tree.

Of course, the infamous Yellow-Rumped Warblers were well-represented (I’m thinking the park should be renamed Yellow-Rumped Warbler Central!), both males and females were plentiful.

I did snap my best pics of a male thus far; I have a standard (and very limited) 18-55mm camera lens which makes warbler photog pretty much impossible. So any shots I do get, that feature distiguishable birds smaller than a crow :) are pretty much a personal victory! LOL!! :) It was very nice of this little fellow to sit still, and fairly low! in a crab-apple tree.

I decided to abandon my sandwich for a bit (I didn’t see any critters which might steal it, LOL), and take a quick walk down the dock. The dock is usually good for at least a few birds zooming by so quickly that it’s impossible to identify them. :)

My true hope was that I might spot a shorebird. They are rare over here (too many people, I think), but I’ve seen ‘em before, so I hold out hope.

Spotted Sandpiper

White wingbars on the Spotted Sandpiper

Spotted Sandpiper (close-up)

I totally scored! :) There, on a rock right along shore, was the unmistakable silhouette of a sandpiper. I was so excited I held my breath, and just kept snap, snap, snapping pictures.

Spotted Sandpiper

Spotted Sandpiper with fairly dark spotting and an orange bill

The setting sun was also behind clouds, so the light was marginal quality. I kept waiting for her (him?) to spook and fly off, but she didn’t. She hopped from rock to rock, picking and pecking for food.

I was shocked at how friendly she turned out to be. Neither me, nor my beeping and clicking camera, seemed to bother her a bit. She hopped and flew from rock to rock, peck, peck, peck. Then she flitted up to the dock itself and quickly wove around, back and forth, pecking at invisible bits that apparently she found quite yummy. :)

Finally she had enough and flew off, to a rock sitting in the water, on the north side of Weborg Point, just behind one of the campsites.

The light was quickly dropping, so I headed back to my burger :) but on the way I spied a little bit of movement in a bush.

Wilson's Warbler

I saw a bit of yellow hopping around, so switched to manual focus and tried to snap a decent picture. I kept getting pictures of his feet and body :) but the 4th shot finally was of his head! Woo-hoo! A Wilson’s Warbler. My first of the season.

All in all it was a fantastic trip to my favorite little birding spot. Combined with a perfectly gorgeous calm evening, and my favorite chicken bruschetta sandwich, I couldn’t have asked for more. Except maybe for the sun to stand still. :) ##

See, as I rounded the corner, and looked up at the top of the Cellcom tower, there was an osprey. The female osprey, very very likely the same bird who’s been nesting up there with her mate for the last 3 years now. (I am guessing it’s the female, given the brown ‘necklace’ of feathers around the upper chest; this is more common with the females, whereas males typically have all-white chests.) The same ospreys usually return to the same nesting spot every year.

She was perched on the same spire, sitting in the same direction as always (looking north), surveying her Kingdom, as if she owns it all, and all of the clutter and we people buzzing about below are just incidental. :)

The reason I was so incredibly happy to see her was because I was worried they’d been shot to death in Central or South America, where our ospreys overwinter. Ospreys will sometimes find a fish farm and set up residence there. To them, it’s just a good food supply. Of course, to the fish farmer, it’s lost profits. So the farmers take to their shotguns and kill the ospreys hunting their ponds.

Every spring I check the local nests, almost obsessively, worried that “our” ospreys unknowingly made a poor choice over winter and were shot and killed.

This is especially a problem in the Dominican Republic, which is a deadly place especially for first-year migrant juveniles who decide end their first migration in the D.R. and take up winter residence, not realizing what a dangerous place it is. The juvies who continue south to South America are often (but not always) headed to safer grounds, at least in terms of the risk of being shot. (Read Meadow’s story)

I sat in the parking lot at the Top of the Hill shops, which is right next door to the tower, and watched her in the binoculars. Holy cow, their talons are huge, their hulking bodies and wide shoulders so imposing! They are an absolutely amazing and beautiful creation.

I hope some of the classes at Gibraltar Schools are studying the ospreys. It is an absolutely golden learning opportunity to have this nest right across the street from the school! And the birds don’t mind if there are kids out on the playground… the kids can walk right out on the school grounds and watch them with the naked eye.

We were thrilled in college to have a pair of nesting ospreys 2 miles away from our summer camp lodge, that we could watch and journal through a telescope…… sheesh. What we would have given to be able to study ospreys like this!!! :)

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Sunset over Weborg Marsh, Sept 25, 2008

I can drive the whole park and see nothing noteworthy, unusual, particularly special, odd or new (not counting the park’s inherent beauty, of course — and I’m not at all discounting that!), but get at least one treat, for sure, on a drive through Weborg Marsh. It is incredible, the power of that one little spot to deliver.

In however many years I’ve been frequenting the park, I cannot think of the last time Weborg Marsh let me down. I’ve seen everything you can imagine… Bald Eagle, Osprey, Red-Tailed Hawk, this year’s very first … Killdeers and Red-Winged Blackbirds, Tree Sparrows, spring’s most amourous Canada Geese,

Sandhill Cranes at Weborg Marsh

whole families of ducks (with fluffy little ducklings in tow), teeny-tiny baby Killdeers,  a late-season family of 3 Sandhill Cranes quietly feeding in the grasses, a Spotted Sandpiper, Red Breasted and Common Mergansers, Buffleheads, Goldeneyes, and migratory Lesser Scaups….. migratory Tanagers and warblers like-you-cannot-believe (really and truly amazing varieties in a single day!)……… rodents of every shape and color :) and flowers literally dripping and flowing from the trailside along Hemlock Trail.

One night in winter, it was the deafening silence and inky darkness, overwhelming my senses… there was a nearly-suffocating, and isolating, blanket of nothingness. Another morning it was a delicate, beautiful hoar frost which decorated and sparkled every grass, sedge, and cattail in the rising golden sun.

Sparkly Hoar Frost covering Weborg Marsh, Winter 2009

The raucous and cheery chatter of red-winged blackbirds can surely uplift anything :) seriously, they never stop. They are like Energizer Bunnies with feathers.

Tonight, however, was different. Tonight’s gift, in the dimming twilight, was the faint but unmistakable dark silhouette of a Great Blue Heron fishing in the shallows of Weborg Marsh. The season’s first Great Blue! Wahoo!! And of course, how fitting to see it there. The place that never disappoints.

I also was finally able to get to Svens Bluff, the very first visit since early December. Skyline Road was clear the whole way — no downed trees, and just a little ice and snow (far less than what we’ve been driving on all winter up here!) What a wonderful, beautiful moment! The sun had long-since set, and it was nearly dark of night. The distant lights of Marinette-Menominee glowed clearly across the still-ice-covered bay. Below me, though, the ice had cleared from Fish Creek to Chambers Island, so I watched the wind dance and roughly ruffle the cold, dark wintry water. Ahhhhhh, water. Svens Bluff!!!! A good day indeed.

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North Slope Snow persists at Peninsula State Park on March 26, 2009

The woods were (are) much more reluctant to relinquish their winter dress. Although my backyard has been 100% melted for 10 solid days now, the “north slopes” at Peninsula remain cloaked in a thick, stubborn white blanket.

We had a similar scenario last winter, between thick, persistent snow cover and bitter cold temps. And it cost dearly — spring awoke with very, very, very few rodents, squirrels, raccoons and skunks. We lost a lot of small mammals over the winter. Where the woods were teeming with wildlife as winter fell in November, the landscape remained eerily still in the bright warm spring sun. The silence and stillness was unsettling. When the critters didn’t reappear, and didn’t reappear, it was obvious… they had all died.

This is, of course, the way of nature. A bloated population eventually is pruned down by harsh conditions; the individuals with “selected for” genes (which is what makes them strong and capable of surviving) survive and reproduce, and build a new, stronger population.

Red Squirrel at Weborg Point, 3/26/09

That’s exactly what has happened here. The strongest survived, and reproduced, and the result was a hardy stock that survived this winter quite handily. I’ve seen more squirrels in the past 2 weeks than I saw all of last summer combined. (That’s not to say we are overflowing with squirrels; rather, it’s more a statement on how few squirrels there were last year.)

But the thick unyielding blanket of snow this winter eventually became stifling. Although winter and the sun duked it out for most of February and early March, I was really starting to think that winter was going to remain a permanent state and that my only chance at reprieve was to scramble southward.

But then March 17th came. The last bits of snow was melting off the fields and yards, and warm breezes lured us outside in short sleeves and even shorts! Yes, shorts. It was in the 60s in the sun (which, when you’re accustomed to 20s and 30s, feels like a sauna). And thankfully, fantastically, it also kicked off spring bird migration. :)

Autumn Forest at Nicolet Bay

Hard to believe I’m uttering the “w” word (winter) in October, especially since my brain is still stuck back somewhere between August and September. I have this total disconnect with the red, yellow and orange leaves outside my window. They are supposed to be green. Or so says my brain. ;)

My brain may be late for its own party, but the Coast Guard isn’t. I heard the Coast Guard cutter MOBILE BAY announce on the scanner this morning that they were “doing ATON in the Strawberry Islands” … which means they are likely pulling up my dearest, favoritest bell buoy off Peninsula Park.

Bell Buoy #6

I don’t know why I have such a love for this buoy. But I think of her as being my soulmate in the buoy world. She is always there, rain or shine, night or day. Her bell clangs with the rhythm of the waves, especially loud up on Svens Bluff and along Sunset Trail. At dusk her bright red light flashes, on and off, on and off, persistently piercing the darkness all night long, ’til dawn assumes command and takes over lighting duties.

The clouds are supposed to clear later today, and I will make a reluctant trek to the park to see if my dear buoy has been tugged from the water for her long winter’s sleep. I hope not! But if she has, I will at least have the memories of a few hikes on Sunset Trail during which time was marked by the irregular but constant clang of my buoy’s bell. ##