The male in breeding plumage is one of the more visually chaotic birds in North America.
~Aaron Bailey, Owner, Teton Excursions
On most of museum educator workshops in years past, we would stop at LeHardy Rapids to look for a particular species, the harlequin ducks. This stretch of fast-flowing waters is considered by some to be the boundary between Yellowstone Lake and where it becomes the Yellowstone River. The rapids are spectacular in spring and the colorful ducks that spend several weeks here are equally impressive.
A gang of harlequin ducks hanging out on the rocks at LeHardy Rapids
Most years, we see only the boldly patterned males hanging out on a few rocks in the rapids. This year, Melissa and I saw a female who is mainly grayish brown with a noticeable white spot on the side of the head. The common name, harlequin, comes from colorful characters in theatrical productions of Italian comedy in the 16th to 18th centuries that were popular in much of Europe. The character’s costume was quite garish with bold colors and patterns and in the late 1700’s these ducks were given the name because of the male’s colors. Even the scientific name, Histrionicus histrionicus, is from Latin meaning “theatrical”.
Illustration from Wikicommons of one of the comic characters for which these ducks are named
It was amazing to watch these birds navigate the rapids. They are well-adapted to live in these harsh conditions: they have powerful legs and webbed feet for propulsion against the current; they use their wings, held slightly open, to help steer in the waves; and they have densely packed feathers that trap air providing both insulation and buoyancy after diving to feed on aquatic insects and small fish. Even that flashy color is believed to help camouflage them in the waves. Studies of museum specimens have provided data suggesting these ducks suffer more broken bones than any other species, not surprising given their habitat of rushing waters and boulders.
These birds thrive in fast-flowing waters like LeHardy RapidsA harlequin male torpedoes upstream over a rapidTheir dense feather layers hold air and make the birds quite buoyant so they tend to pop back to the surface like a cork even in the roughest watersA male flaps his wings after spending minutes in the waves
They tend to be at LeHardy Rapids for several weeks with females then departing to nest on smaller tributaries that are not quite as fast-flowing. They migrate to coastal waters for the winter were they feed on a variety of tidal marine invertebrates. Due to their remote habitat preferences, little is known about overall population trends although their wintering population in the northeastern United States has been declining.
LeHardy Rapids provides birdwatchers with an excellent chance to see these beautiful birds every spring and we always look forward to spending time with these elegant “clowns of the waves”.
The harlequins posing in their clown suits (the males that is) on their favorite perch in the rapids
My third book is out! I introduced the first two and wrote about how this whole project came about back in May. The third volume includes thirty more nature stories with photos and illustrations on topics ranging from the white ash tree that was in my yard growing up to finding ant lions in your backyard to snorkeling with colorful fish in mountain streams to seeing wild canids in Yellowstone. Check it out here:
Available on Amazon now, click the image to take you to the site.
Here’s a sneak peak at one of the stories from Volume 3…
Dipper Dinner
One of my favorite birds to watch in Yellowstone is the American dipper. Dippers are small gray birds about the size of a robin. That might not sound exciting. But dippers are special birds. They are the only songbirds that are aquatic! That means they only live in and around the water.
It seems that whenever I spend time near a rushing stream in Yellowstone, I see an American dipper. The dipper is almost always sitting on a small rock at the edge of the stream. It bobs its body up and down nonstop, like it is dancing to the music of the water. That’s why it’s called a dipper! Dippers particularly like riffles, where the water is shallow and rocky and fast-flowing.
As I watch the dipper, it jumps off the rock and into the water. The dipper can swim! Sometimes, its head and neck bob above the surface as it uses its big feet to walk across the slippery river rocks. Sometimes it goes completely underwater and uses its wings to swim!
American dipper looking for insects underwater
After about ten seconds in the water, the dipper jumps back up onto its rock. I can see a small insect in its beak. It shakes the insect a few times. Then it gulps the insect down. It happens so fast! I watch the dipper through my binoculars as it catches more insects. I want to figure out what kind of food it is eating.
American dipper with an insect in its beak
When the dipper first hops out of the water onto the rock, I can see something brown in its beak. But after it shakes its prey, I see some green color on it. I suspect that the dipper is catching caddisfly larvae. Caddisfly larvae have dark head capsules, six legs, and a long, segmented abdomen. On some species of caddisfly larvae, the abdomen is green, like the dipper’s prey.
Caddisfly larva
Caddisfly larvae live in streams and ponds. They hide out in shelters they build from leaves or sticks or rocks. Their shelters help them stay hidden and protect them from predators. But not from the American dipper! The dipper easily spots a caddisfly larva, grabs it in its beak, carries it to a rock, shakes off its brown case, and gulps down the tasty green insect inside.
American dippers like to eat all sorts of other things they can find in streams. Once, Mike and I even watched a dipper catch and eat a small fish! Even in the middle of winter, dippers find prey in places along a stream where the water is flowing too fast to freeze. Brr! It’s a good thing the dipper has lots more feathers than most other birds the same size.
What are the favorite foods of birds that live near you? Do you have birds that like to eat insects? Can you figure out what kinds of insects they are eating?
Aquatic: An aquatic animal is one that lives in the water.
To take this story a little bit further, here’s some video I shot through our spotting scope of an American dipper catching a caddisfly (I think) back in February. This moment is actually what inspired the story for my book!
Pretty much all of the stories are based on real events like this one, though I did elaborate in a few cases (like when I claimed to be interested in cicadas as a teenager… that didn’t really happen until much later in life!).
I rejoice that there are owls…They represent the stark twilight and unsatisfied thoughts which all have.
~Henry David Thoreau
On Monday I was planning a hike to get away from the crowds along the roadways in the northern range. As I was driving, I decided to go down the Blacktail Drive, a one-way 6-mile dirt road through some beautiful landscapes. I was immediately disappointed when I saw another car ahead only a half-mile in. Turned out to be two stopped cars so I slowly eased up, looking left and right to see what they might be watching. The first car moved off as I approached, then the second, and I never saw anything, a frustratingly common occurrence in the park. What did they see? Well, the first car was stopped in a wide spot a little farther along so I rolled down my window and asked. With a huge smile, the man said “a black wolf, and we got some great pictures”. It had crossed the dirt road in front of them and then stopped and finally walked into the trees and over the hill as I drove up. I was bummed to say the least! I later spoke to the occupants of the second car and they confirmed it had been a wolf. This is Yellowstone – you never know what you might see anywhere anytime.
At the end of the drive you come down to the main road near the Petrified Tree road. I could see a large crowd gathered across the meadow so I assumed it was another black bear, although the thought of a possible moose made me pull over and get out to go see. I walked up to the edge of the knoll and there was a large cinnamon brown bear grazing in the clearing. I stood and watched the people, knowing that many were thinking they were seeing their first grizzly, an understandable mistake if you aren’t familiar with these brown-colored black bears that are so common in Yellowstone. As I walked back to the car, “nature called” so I went beyond the lot into the trees. When I came back there was a man in a truck parked next to me who enthusiastically told me about the bear just over the rise. He wanted to know if I saw anything back in the trees. Well, not wanting to admit it, I said I was looking for a western tanager. He exclaimed, “oh, you’re into birds?”. He then shared he had an amazing encounter with some birds as he drove into the park – “I had to pee, you know how that is”…I nodded. He continued “I got out of the truck and went into the woods and heard a hoot”. He looked around and saw a great horned owl nest with two chicks. I asked him where and he began giving some vague directions that led me to a possible location where I knew owls had nested in the vicinity in years past. I thanked him and headed straight to that area. I pulled over and got out looking for likely trees (hollow trees, broken snags, or trees with old nests or mistletoe clumps) and, incredibly, I saw an owl atop a broken tree trunk. I walked way around and above the tree hoping to have a better angle for viewing, but I could only see the adult sitting on the edge of the snag. By the way, all these photos are taken with my 200-800 mm telephoto and are cropped. I was trying to not disturb the birds. At times, I obviously was spotted by them. But other people walk around this popular area so I think the birds are accustomed to seeing people nearby. But I doubt many people see the birds as they blend in very well.
The adult owl on the edge of the nest (click photos to enlarge)
I continued to move uphill and the owl then spotted me so I stopped.
She looks at me as the sun breaks out
I kept wondering how that guy saw two owlets, but figured the little ones had been standing when he was there. I looked up behind me and it was a steep slope with a jumble of huge jagged boulders. Not very inviting. I did think that in my younger days I might have tried it, but I thought better of it now. I then decided to go to another vantage point on the opposite side of the tree and see what the nest looked like. That was the secret as I saw an owlet staring at me.
One owlet looks at me when I made a wide circle around the tree to the opposite sideAfter watching for many minutes, the other owlet raised up.
I went back to the car and brought out the spotting scope and hooked up my phone on the adapter. Now I was much farther away and was partially hidden in some trees so any passing people would hopefully not see me observing the birds (I just didn’t want this to become a spectacle as the nest was approachable unlike the previous raptor nests I filmed).
Here are just a few of the clips I made while watching these beautiful owls…
I have a lot of footage of the owls sitting in the nest, the wind blowing their feathers as they take a siesta or keep an eye on what’s going on below. But here is a different perspective showing the incredible talons that make great horned owls such lethal hunters.
After a light rain, I reluctantly headed back home. This is how I left them. They seemed pretty relaxed. Wishing the owlets a successful first flight in a few weeks.
The wild hawk stood with the down on his beak and stared with his foot on the prey.
~Alfred Lord Tennyson
While Melissa is out with her teacher workshop, I have been busy observing wildlife in the park. Not the usual megafauna of wolves and bears, but some of what most people claim to be “less glamorous” species from trout to dragonflies. Most birds also tend to fall into that category but I decided to spend yesterday trying to observe feeding behavior at three raptor nests visible from the park roads. We have watched these nests before and seen the nestlings, but I wanted to try to film the adults feeding their young. It turned out to be a 7-hour marathon requiring patience and lots of discussion with park visitors.
All three nests are across a river from pullouts along a road and are on steep or inaccessible terrain making them safe from human disturbance. Here is what the nest sites look like from the roads. These images are taken with a telephoto lens so you can see why most people never see them as they drive by (although the osprey nest is fairly visible if you are paying attention).
A red-tailed hawk nest in a cavity in a cliff face. The nest is just left of center in this photo (click photos to enlarge)A peregrine falcon nest in a crevice in the canyon wallThis osprey nest has been here for many years
I started with the red-tailed hawk nest which is probably the least known of the three. I sat in a folding chair next to my car with my phone attached to a spotting scope (with a Phone Skope adapter) for about 90 minutes watching the nest (a full 30 minutes before the adult bird showed up). During that time, fewer than 10 vehicles stopped and only 4 where someone got out to ask what I was looking at. And when I showed two of those the hawk babies through the scope, they said “cool, have you seen any bears”? Birds get no respect:)
I had hoped to get the adult bird flying into the nest with prey but in all three nests I missed that as the birds came in so quickly and it takes a few seconds for the camera to turn on and focus once you hit the buttons. The hawk brought in a rodent of some sort, perhaps a Uinta ground squirrel based n the color of the fur. For the next 56 minutes, the adult hawk tore into the prey item feeding bits of it to the hungry nestlings. Enlarge the videos to full screen for best viewing.
Unlike songbirds, raptor chicks hatch in the order the eggs are laid causing size disparities in the young with the first to hatch generally being the largest. The older chicks often get fed the most because of their larger size and aggressiveness.
After almost 30 minutes of feeding, the two largest chicks were full. The adult starting pecking at the carcass and then attempted to swallow the remains, which required some effort to get down.
I next moved on the peregrine falcon nest site. Falcons have nested in this section of the canyon for many years and word spread early this year about the location of this year’s nest. It is in a small crack in the vertical canyon wall across the river from a couple of pullouts. The overcast day provided better light as the shadows can be very dark on sunny days. As I was getting the scope set up, the adult falcon flew in with a prey item which I assumed was another bird. On previous visits we had seen a northern flicker and perhaps a dipper brought in to feed the chicks. It wasn’t until I reviewed the footage on the computer that I discovered the prey was a rodent! I can’t quite tell what it is so if you have thoughts, let me know. I was amazed, but studies show that although most of a peregrine’s prey is bird life, they do occasionally eat insects, small mammals, and even reptiles.
This nest originally contained 4 chicks. Research indicates that peregrine’s usually lay 3 to 4 eggs but have a survival of an average of 2 young per nest. You can see the size differences here. We watched a feeding a few days prior to this and the noticeably smaller fourth chick received very little food as it was positioned behind its much larger siblings during the feeding. We later learned that chick died and was fed to its siblings. This is not an unusual fate for the smallest young in a raptor nest, especially if it is a year with sparse prey availability.
This feeding was much quicker than that at the red-tailed hawk nest and it seemed the adult bird ate more of the prey. I believe the noticeable paired bulges on the necks of the young birds is from the food in their crop. As the food moves into their stomachs, those bulges disappear.
My last stop was at the osprey nest. This is a popular visitor stop as the pullout is quite large and many people stop to observe the nest. I had a lot more interaction with visitors at this location. I posted earlier this spring about watching the pair refurbish the nest by breaking off limbs from trees along the river and flying them back to the nest. I waited here for well over an hour before the male brought back a trout for the young (studies show that the male usually does all of the fishing during nesting). The female quickly started tearing off pieces and feeding the chicks. It seemed that she was more equitable in her feeding then the other two raptor species I had watched earlier.
You’ll see one of the chicks squirt its poop over the edge of the nest at the start of the clip. After the feeding, the female flew for a couple of minutes, no doubt for some well-deserved alone time. The male stayed on the branch next to the nest. When she returned she did a little house-keeping and moved a stick to a new spot. A nearby lightning bolt encouraged me to wrap up an incredible day of observing raptors raising their young. The spotting scope and phone combination provides some incredible insights into the lives of these amazing birds.
Apparently, I shared about our spring baby encounters too soon! Over the past few days, we’ve had a number of other adorable baby encounters.
There’s been a mother bear and her cub-of-the-year hanging around the road lately… and we happened by an afternoon wrestling session between mother and cub.
Then, guiding a tour for Yellowstone Wild a couple days later, I came across the same pair. This time, the cub was up in a tree taking a nap on a narrow, uncomfortable-looking branch. Before long, the cub got up, walked the tightrope to the tree, and climbed down to mom. Then, it was snack time!
We’ve known about a peregrine falcon nest for a few weeks, and when we stopped by to check it out, we were lucky enough to see the adult bring in a meal to the chicks. Peregrines are bird predators, and sure enough, the meal the adult brought it was some sort of bird, though hard to tell what kind. I wondered if it was a coot, but Mike thinks the feet aren’t big and lobed enough. He’s wondering if it could have been an American dipper. In the rocky nook that is the nest, there were also a bunch of red feathers from a northern flicker that the adult had fed the chicks earlier that morning.
Note the small fourth chick in the back. Raptors start incubating as soon as the first egg is laid. That egg hatches first, and the chick is the largest. The last egg laid is the last chick hatched. This is a strategy to increase the chances of survival of at least one of the chicks (the first one). The first chick is the largest and gets the most food, therefore, it has the best chance of survival. The last chick, also the youngest, is smallest. Many times it doesn’t survive.
While watching the peregrines, we also spotted some bighorn sheep on the slope above the rocky raptor nest. The group had a couple of lambs with it. We watched as one of the lambs goofed off above the shear cliff. It’s amazing to think these little critters learn so quickly to stay stable in such a place.
Mike shared about a very young sandhill crane colt in his Colt post last month. I hadn’t seen one since that little colt and its parents moved on from their over-popular pond, so I was excited to spot one with my tour group this week. The video isn’t super sharp (heat waves cause wavy views in the heat of the day through a scope)… but check out its adorable chicken-wings!
There’s a fox den folks have been watching lately, too. I took my tour group to check it out, but sadly, the fox kits were having nap time. However, a bit earlier in the day, Mike had visited and had a chance to watch some baby fox antics.
Tomorrow, I pick up a group of North Carolina educators at the Bozeman airport for our NC Museum of Natural Sciences’ Yellowstone Institute. Tag along on that trip through the Educators of Excellence blog, and maybe there will be even more baby sightings to share!
“All animals are born with innocence, curiosity and love.” ~Anthony D. Williams
Springtime in baby season in Yellowstone. The bison start first, dropping their fluffy orange calves starting in mid to late April. This spring, every time we went out in the park and spotted a bison cow with her tail up, I took a second look. Of course, bison raise their tails frequently… you may have heard that a tail up means one or two things: charge or discharge. It can be sign of agitation… or, the obvious. But in spring, a tail held straight up for a longer time on a female bison can signify something else — that it’s time for a calf to arrive.
Charge! This bull bison was charging after a black bear.
Despite our efforts, we didn’t catch a bison birth this spring. While there’s still a chance for a late birth — there always seems to be a calf or two that arrives late and holds its orange color later into the year than others in its cohort — it’s a lot less likely. Now, the big herds dotting Lamar Valley or wandering the high slopes seem to have an almost even number of dark brown cows and orange calves.
So now, our baby search has shifted to moose, elk, pronghorn, and deer. Just a few days ago, we got a message from our friend Andrew that is living in our house in Pittsboro that he had seen a deer inside the deer fence. A couple days later, after another sighting in spite of a fence repair, he walked the fence again and discovered the source of her persistence: a fawn stashed just inside the fence! Deer (and elk and pronghorn) leave their scentless babies hidden while they go out to feed, returning a couple times a day to nurse and clean the baby. Staying hidden keeps the baby safe until it is able to keep up with the herd.
A white-tailed deer fawn just inside the deer fence at our house in Pittsboro. Photo by Andrew Torlage.
Here in Yellowstone, we’d heard that folks were starting to see elk calves, and there was a report of a pronghorn giving birth near the entrance station. I was jealous. Well, after a day in the park with our friends Deb and Keith, who were visiting from North Carolina, we arrived back into cell service to a text message from our next door neighbor, Trudy, that an elk was in labor in the backyard between our two houses! It had started about two hours prior, and I was so disappointed that we had missed it. But apparently elk labor can last up to 3 hours. I checked in with Trudy, and the elk was still there and still in labor. Trudy had seen the calf’s feet emerge from the birth canal briefly, but they had pulled back in.
We hurried home. We quietly snuck up to the downstairs window where we could see her. She was only about 15 feet away, and we worried we were too visible and would make her uncomfortable, something we definitely did not want to do. So we went upstairs and piled on our bed to look out the second story window. For about an hour, kneeling in a somewhat uncomfortable position to look out over the head board of the bed, we watched.
The elk was laying on her side with her legs out straight. We could tell when she had a contraction as her body tensed and her eyes bulged. Sometimes, she’d kick one of her legs out straighter. A few times she stood up slowly and shifted position, seemingly trying to get comfortable. Finally we saw hints of the feet of the baby. The hooves were bright white while the legs were dark, almost black. Eventually, after much pushing and shifting and what looked like a lot of discomfort, the head of the baby elk appeared. We could sort of make out one eye through the sac encasing the baby. It seemed to take a long time, but finally with much pushing and eye bulging and effort, the baby emerged, except for its back legs. For a moment, it didn’t move… but soon it uncurled its head and kicked its legs. The mother stood up and the back legs dropped out. She immediately turned around to eat the birth sac off the calf and lick it clean.
Baby elk nursing
The calf was small and very dark colored. As the mother cleaned and licked the baby, its fur fluffed up, and before long it had a more typical brown color with hints of the white spots that help it stay camouflaged. As the baby elk flailed around, trying to stand up, the mother delivered the afterbirth and began to eat that as well. Apparently, it is typical in the animal world for a mother to eat the birth material. It provides much-needed nutrients, and it helps remove an attractant for predators and scavengers from the site of the birth.
As the calf tried to stand, it would straighten its back legs and push its butt into the air. Its front legs, folded underneath it, proved tricky to straighten. Multiple times it tried and fell back to the ground. Finally, it managed to get all but its hooves straight; they were still tucked back and under. But soon it gained its feet and wobbled around next to its mother. It nuzzled up to her, likely looking for her udders. It kept trying her neck… but finally found the right spot between her back legs and managed to get its first meal.
All in all, her labor ended up taking about three hours, and it look about 30 more minutes for the calf to be able to stand. That evening. she took the calf across the street away from any remaining scent of the birth and into a thicker area of vegetation. We haven’t seen our little friend again yet, but that’s probably because his mom is hiding him in a safe place.
Here’s a video of the entire process. I tried to cut it down to a reasonable length, so it has some cuts when the process took time. Note that it includes the sight of blood and birth materials… so you may not want to watch it if that makes you squeamish.
We couldn’t believe our luck to get to witness such a miraculous event… but turns out, it wasn’t our only birth for the season! The following week, we took a camping trip to an area west of the park. As we were out exploring some dirt roads in sagebrush country, we came around a curve. I noticed a pronghorn out in the sage. Something about her posture struck me, and I told Mike to stop. Sure enough, the first of her twins wobbled beneath her legs as the head of its sibling, encased in a bluish membrane, emerged from her birth canal. She saw or heard us and somehow managed to pause the birth as she watched us with her wide, dark eyes. When she didn’t avert her attention after a few minutes, we backed the truck back around the curve. Out of sight, we climbed a nearby hill. Through the trees we could watch and not disturb. I actually think she could still sense us even there, but we were still and she eventually got back to work.
Her labor continued and shortly, we saw the second fawn flop to the ground. Even before its back legs emerged, I could see it moving its head and front legs. Our view of her and the twins came and went as they moved in the sagebrush. The twins were dark, the second darker than the first. And though both quickly gained their feet, the wobbles in their skinny legs were adorable. Their heads were only about half the size of their mother’s, but perfect mimics with the same dark eyes and curious, tall ears. The afterbirth came all of a sudden as the mother rose again to her feet, tail end in the air. We watched the tiny fawns stumble around their mother for a while, then we left the new family to itself and drove away, thoroughly amazed.
We’ve been keeping an eye out for babies on our recent visits to the park, too. Recently, we got to watch the joyful clambering of baby mountain goats high on a cliff. It’s amazing how quickly they gain the dexterity to climb and not fall.
And just a couple days ago, while guiding some guests for Yellowstone Wild, I spotted a pronghorn fawn with its mother. This one was a good bit older than the newborns we saw last week, and it looked like maybe it had reached the stage where it would travel with the herd.
The sound is so low…it’s one that you feel more than you hear.
~Martha Fischer, Cornell Laboratory of Ornithology
We took a 4-day road trip last week to various public lands in western Montana and eastern Idaho. Our goal was to see as many birds as possible in the different habitats we traversed. After camping in some beautiful country and enjoying the magnificent scenery, I’d say we accomplished our goal. A highlight for both of us was hearing several ruffed grouse drumming in an aspen grove near our campsite. We walked in a bit trying to find a particularly persistent one. We sat and listened and finally saw it fly a bit farther into the woods when we got up and were walking along the edge of the treeline. We decided to leave him to his pursuits and left. But as we started driving along the dirt road, Melissa spotted another grouse on a log in some aspens not far off the road. We watched it drum and then decided to back up for a better view. We have learned it is always a risk to back up for a better view of an animal once you have driven past it a bit (we think they know they have been seen and that makes them nervous and often they flee).
But this grouse was on a mission – drumming to establish his territory and hopefully attract a female. The vegetation was fairly thick so our first views were somewhat obstructed by leaves, but we sat and watched in awe as he drummed a couple of times. I finally decided to back up just a bit more and found a spot where I could film the bird without many leaves or twigs in the way.
If you have never seen a grouse drum, it is a truly remarkable sight. The drumming is performed by rapid (extremely rapid in fact) wing beats and contrary to what some people once thought, the wings don’t flap against each other or the log to create the sound. The deep drumming sound is actually created by the fact that the fierce beating of the wings creates a vacuum and as air rushes back in it creates a mini sonic boom. A drumming session typically lasts about 10 seconds and has roughly 50 wing beats. It starts slow and then gains momentum, trailing off at the end. We witnessed a couple of false starts consisting of one or two slow wing beats before the bird settled back into a more relaxed position.
Here is a short video showing the drumming in real time. Unfortunately, I didn’t have my external microphone on so the camera’s mic doesn’t really pick up the low sound of the wing beats. Here is a sample of their sounds from The Cornell Lab of Ornithology (click the display tab and watch their video of one drumming as seen from behind).
I remember hearing this unusual bird thunder in the mountains of Virginia and North Carolina years ago. I have only seen the bird in action one other time so spending several minutes with this avian percussionist was a real treat.
Did you ever wonder if the person in the puddle is real, and you’re just a reflection of him?
~Bill Watterson
My museum mentor, boss, and good friend, Mary Ann, always said “We do not learn from experience…we learn from reflecting on experience.” Time for reflection was an important part of every workshop we did at the museum and it still is. Talking with someone about an experience, journaling, or simply sitting quietly and thinking about what you just experienced are all effective ways to get the most out of any event.
Of course, there are other types of reflections and I often pause to take those in as I travel through our new landscape. Here are a few from the past couple of months.
Bison in a kettle pondPronghorn buck getting a drinkPronghorn in Little AmericaThe reflection wasn’t great, but the attitude caught my attention. Shortly after I took this photo, the young bull lunged at the cow that was lecturing him and she splashed out of the pool.So many ponds and lakes to reflect uponA Canada goose at Trout LakeThe stunning green head of a male mallard in morning lightA male Barrow’s goldeneye at Trout LakeA female Barrow’ goldeneye stretching her wingsA male American widgeon in a roadside marsh
There is an unreasonable joy to be had from the observation of small birds going about their bright, oblivious business.
~Grant Hutchison
Well, sandhill cranes aren’t really small birds. In fact, they rank as North America’s second tallest bird at between 3 to 5 feet (depending on the subspecies) falling just short of the slightly taller whooping crane. But what I watched this week was a very young sandhill crane (some are saying it is only a few days old) that was probably only about 7 to 8 inches tall. Sandhill crane babies are called colts because someone thought their long strong legs looked like those of a young horse. They are precocial young which means they hatch covered in downy feathers with eyes open and able to walk within just a few hours. Soon they are trailing after their parents as they probe for small insects to feed them. They grow quickly, up to an inch per day. But this is an extremely vulnerable time for a colt especially in a place like Yellowstone with so many predators. A colt won’t be able to fly for 2 to 3 months so they are reliant on their parents for protection. In the past, I watched an adult sandhill defending a colt from a coyote by going at the canid with wings flared and jumping at it until the confused mammal gave up and left the scene.
Sandhill crane family. Note the tiny orange ball of downy feathers just behind the adults – that’s the colt
But on this morning, I watched this family as they walked along near a wetland marsh looking for food with the youngster moving between parents to get a small morsel of whatever it was they were finding in the soft soil. The whole scene was idyllic – early morning light with a family of majestic birds going about their lives with a group of well-behaved visitors along the road taking it all in. Here are a couple of clips of these birds having breakfast.
It is a remarkably spirited little creature, and one would hardly expect so much fire and courage to be condensed into so small a body.
~John Muir
A couple of years ago on a trip to Yellowstone, I heard reports of a calliope hummingbird near Gardiner. I looked it up in a field guide and was blown away – what a stunning bird! They are the smallest breeding bird in North America weighing in at about 2 to 3 grams or about the same as a ping pong ball or a penny. They also have the distinction of being the smallest long-distance migrant in the world annually traveling 5000 miles between their breeding grounds in the Pacific Northwest and Rocky Mountains to their wintering areas in Mexico and Central America. Last summer we had a couple of calliope females (or immature males) at the feeders a few times but they were overwhelmed by the larger broad-tailed hummers and the frenzy of rufous hummingbirds. But I had not yet seen a male until this past week. Melissa saw a male at our feeder a few times while I was out in the yard working. Then she saw one while I was in the living room but it was on the back side of the feeder out of my sight. But I was hopeful now that one was hanging around.
Then she guided a birding group (including some friends from NC) last week and I tagged along on the walk to hope to see dusky grouse. Along the way Melissa spotted a male calliope that flew past and perched high on a small conifer. The group gathered trying to get a look and a photo. The bird flashed off and then reappeared on the same perch. I managed a couple of poor photos before it zoomed away. I regretted not looking at it through my binoculars instead of taking a distant photo in poor light. But at least we had seen one.
My first view of the male calliope was not the best
On the way back, we spotted the bird again in the same general area as before. I got a little closer and managed a photo with its back turned. It wasn’t until I looked at the pic on my computer that I realized that even with its back facing me I could still see its unusual gorget feathers sticking out away from its body..
Notice the spread gorget feathers visible off the side of the neck even when it is turned around
And that is what helps make the male calliope hummingbird one of the most spectacular birds I have seen. Unlike other North American hummingbirds whose males have a more or less solid pattern of bright color on their neck feathers (their gorget), the male calliope has separate magenta-red feathers that spread out like starburst rays on a white background. When viewed from the side, they appear dark like the gorgets of many other species of hummingbirds. But when viewed head-on, it is amazing!
Our bird soon flew off so the group drove on to other sites. I decided to stay and see if the bird returned so I sat on a log by the trail and waited. I spoke to a nice group of folks from North Carolina and a young couple hiking by and then it was quiet. I waited about 15 minutes and decided it might be time to go when suddenly a male calliope flew in and landed on the other side of the trail on a small dead twig. For a few seconds he was facing the other way and then he turned around and faced me, head turned to the side.
When viewed from the side the separate neck feathers appear dark
But when they turn toward you, the effect is dazzling. The wine-purple feathers are set off by the white background in between. And the male can elevate the bright feathers outward to create that starburst effect. That has got to impress the ladies. It sure impressed me.
The gorgeous display of neck feathers of a male calliope hummingbird
And this was a cloudy day. I look forward to going back to try to catch a glimpse of one in the sunlight which should really set off the colors in those bright streaks of feathers.
Certainly one of our most beautiful birds
Remarkably, no one walked past me on this trail for the 10 minutes I sat with this bird that was only 15 feet away. Before it flew off to parts unknown I tried some handheld video clips. I accidentally filmed them in slow motion (guess I was still very excited to be sitting near this jewel of a bird). Here are portions of the two clips.
Note the breathing action of the bird in this next clip and the occasional flying insect (mosquito?) that gets attention from time to time. That yoga stretch looks pretty relaxing as well.
In the 10 minutes I was privileged to watch this bird, I took over 270 photos and 3 videos. But I could have spent much more time with such an intriguing and beautiful creature. Here’s hoping I get some more chances this summer.
Roads End Naturalist 