Seward, Alaska
Sunrise 9:00 am, sunset 5:24
pm, for a total day length of 8 hours and 23 minutes. Tomorrow will be 5
minutes and 12 seconds longer.
After a week of monotonous
gray days with temps in the upper 30s to 40ยบ, the south wind picked up and
slammed a torrential rain onto Seward Thursday night. That perked things up!
Friday afternoon, the white
rain changed to actual snow, with big, fat flakes wafting down from the great
snow maker in the sky. It was really beautiful! About an inch of the unusual
white stuff covered the ground, barely in snow state. Although many areas under
spruce trees remained clear and vaguely greenish, the feeble snow cover drove hungry
birds to the feeders. Looks like snow showers for the next week, with an
emphasis on “showers” as the temp is forecast to be in the 40s again.
As it only sprinkled part of
the day, it was easy to be outside with the optics. First stop, Spring Creek
Beach on the east side of the bay. 100s of MEW GULLS and GLAUCOUS-WINGED GULLS
have discovered the recent seafood processing fish gurry outfall pipe,
gathering in large rafts off shore. Nearby was a smattering of SURF SCOTERS,
BARROW’S GOLDENEYES, PELAGIC CORMORANTS, and a few HORNED GREBES. HARLEQUINS
patrolled the near shore.
The SMIC boat basin offered a
busy Sea Otter, munching noisily on something hard, a stealthy and curious
Harbor Seal, a RED-NECKED GREBE, two COMMON MURRES (yea!) a MARBLED MURRELET, a
hen BARROW’S GOLDENEYE, and a dozen inquisitive NORTHWESTERN CROWS.
More gulls rested on shore at
Fourth of July Beach. I spotted a female COMMON MERGANSER sitting alone along a
little creek bank; what a big, round belly! She was slow to see me and slow to
react, but eventually took off down the stream back to the ocean. I thought
nothing of it until…
Five minutes later, my good
dog suddenly caught a whiff of something and went ballistic, barking furiously.
I looked over, and there was a beautiful Coyote, standing above the creek, her
coloration a mixture of dried beach rye grass, weathered gray driftwood, and fresh
snow, her ears the reddish color of wet spruce cones. If she was
disappointed in losing the fat Merganser for lunch, she was too polite to say.
Instead she calmly sat down, as if bemused by all the racket.
I moved slightly to get a
better view, and she agreed to move as well. As she leisurely turned away, she
stopped and gave us a long, lingering look, then slipped away into the alders
and disappeared.
After she was gone, the dog
and I walked over to inspect her tracks. So petite! At 30 pounds, she is half
the weight of my dog. But tough and wild and free. I was thrilled to watch her,
and equally grateful there was only one, so gracious and polite.
Crossing back, I spotted some
bright orange rust on something in the stream and picked up an ancient, 4-sided
spike. Wow! Did this drop out of a shipworm-riddled piece of hull from a
long-ago shipwreck? Today was full of mysteries and surprises!
On the walk back, I found a
newly emerged Stonefly, walking along a snowy log. Spring is early this year! A
COMMON LOON popped up along the shore, intent on its quest for fish. Always
nice to see a loon!
I next stopped at Afognak
Beach at the ebbing tide, feeling very lucky. Sure enough! The KILLDEER was
still here, probing and plucking tiny invertebrates from their hiding places in
the intertidal rocks and silt. That bird, despite its brilliant white belly and
dramatic black necklaces, is hard to see. Careful scanning with the binocs for
its slow, deliberate movements helped to find it. A silent KINGFISHER flew past,
heading for the creek and lunch.
The sun shot through the
clouds now and then, illuminating the brilliant new white snow on the
surrounding mountaintops. I headed for one last stop at the head of the bay.
Mallards, about 100, watched me warily, and then flew off, quacking in
complaint. Mew Gulls worked the receding tideline. A BALD EAGLE adult perched
on driftwood, watching. The snowy mountains reflected their spectacular images in
the mirror-like puddles, upside down.
As I came around a corner to
the creek, several BUFFLEHEADS spotted me and flew. A lone female BARROW’S
GOLDENEYE remained in the tidal stream. Suddenly, a small, brown bird appeared,
paddling quietly near the opposite shore. What? Who?
Then I saw the perky little
crest above its small bill. I was stunned! A CRESTED AUKLET! The last time these
remarkable alcids were seen was during the January 3 Christmas Bird Count and few,
if any, have been seen since. The amazing alcid paddled upstream with the
Goldeneye, diving quickly now and then. It was fun to hear the quiet “blip” as
it dove, spraying water in a big arc.
After a bit, it turned around
and paddled back towards me. What an unusual bird, with its dashing plumes and
tiny, smiling bill! I froze, enjoying this rare encounter, until it again
turned and paddled/dove back upstream. Then I too, quietly left it to find
enough food to sustain it through yet another long night.
Back home, in the diminishing
light, I found at least 15 GRAY-CROWNED ROSY-FINCHES feasting on sunflower
seeds below the bird feeder. What a combination of colors: raspberry pink
bellies, chocolate backs, gray heads with black crowns and throats, and bright
golden bills! Made me hungry for an ice cream sundae!
DARK-EYED JUNCOS hopped in
and around the busy finches. A COMMON REDPOLL joined the flurry. BLACK-CAPPED
and CHESTNUT-BACKED CHICKADEES flashed in to grab a sunseed from the feeder and
flashed away to peck it open on a nearby branch. In between, the shy BROWN
CREEPER tried to get a bit of suet before the much more dominant chickadees
shooed it away. What a lovely finale to a most unusual and exciting day!
Happy Birding!
Carol Griswold
Seward Sporadic Bird Report
Reporter
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