Tuesday, June 28, 2022 Not a Swallow!

Seward, Alaska

Sunrise 4:37 am, sunset 11:27 pm for a total day length of 18 hours and 49 minutes. Tomorrow will be 1 minute and 22 seconds shorter.

Sunshine and blue skies continued with an overnight low of 50 to a midday high of 76º. Thank goodness for that brisk breeze!

While enjoying the lovely afternoon swimming the good dog at First Lake, a single Swallow swooped back and forth in front of me, putting a dent in a newly hatched swarm of flies and midges hovering just above the still water. I immediately snapped to attention, trying to identify it. 

The erratic flight was almost normal for any acrobat chasing gyrating insects. But that light brown color? As I zipped through the possibilities and eliminated them all, I realized it had to be a Little Brown Bat. A bat! If only it would slow down so I could SEE it!

As if on cue, the little mammal hit the water with an “oops!” and other ultrasonic curses, and floated, suddenly still. It couldn’t lift off. I leapt up, wondering how to help it; maybe it would climb onto the Chuck-it if I could reach it. No need! It was swimming! As it headed right towards me, quickly stroking the 10’ to shore, (GOLD!) I could see its bony little wrists and perky little ears. That sure cinched the ID! It immediately disappeared under the bank quite close to me.

I slowly waded along the bank, peering into the shadows of the undercut, wondering where it went. Then I found it clinging with minute claws about 6” up, its little face looking back at me, trembling. Its grayish neck and belly were wet and a bit disheveled.  I took a few photos with my phone and backed away. Nobody would believe me without a photo! After a few minutes, it was out flying around as if nothing had happened. 

Checking the photos, I noticed a myriad of little white specks all over its face. Mites? Fungal spores? A friend contacted a NPS regional biologist who said it was unlikely to be White Nose Syndrome this time of the season as bats will groom off any fungus while they are active. The specks could be mites of sediment from the water surface. As I had just observed, bats can’t take off from the water or ground and have to climb a tree or rock and take off from there. 

I guess even a short way up is enough for lift-off for a 3-4.5” long flying mammal that only weighs 0.29 ounces, about as much as a quarter and a penny, give or take a few flies.

The ADFG website states the Little Brown Bat, Myotis lucifugus, is nocturnal and that the short summer nights at high latitudes reduces the time available for foraging. Indeed, the Latin, “lucifugus” means “light fleeing”. I haven’t seen one in town for a long time, and then usually in the fall at night, swooping after moths attracted to the streetlights.

Apparently, this little one didn’t want to wait until midnight for supper. I’m so pleased I happened to be there at the right place and time to marvel at the sight. 

Happy Birding (and Batting)!
Carol Griswold
Seward Sporadic Bird Report Reporter

https://www.adfg.alaska.gov/index.cfm?adfg=littlebrownbat.main

 

 

 

 

 

Monday, June 20, 2022 Dwindling Choir

Seward, Alaska

Sunrise 4:33 am, sunset 11:27 pm, for a total day length of 18 hours and 54 minutes. Tomorrow, Summer Solstice, will be 4 seconds longer. 

Cool, cloudy weather with lows in the mid-40 to highs in the low 60s recently delivered sprinkles and a bit of real rain, but not enough to end the drought. More sun is in the forecast for the next week with warmer temperatures.

Many members of the bird choir have quit for personal reasons and to spend more time with their growing families. The thrush section seems the most reliable though stretched thin: a ROBIN serenading here, a few HERMIT THRUSHES fluting there, once in a long while a VARIED THRUSH calls in.

 I noted a SWAINSON’S THRUSH singing at the 40 mph sign on Exit Glacier Road, and two GRAY-CHEEKED THRUSHES swirling near the Exit Glacier welcome sign. VARIED THRUSHES in the park were silent, but busy snatching flies and spiders off the roadside.

A few representatives of the warbler section are also still checking in to keep up appearances: Mr. WILSON, YELLOW-RUMPED, ORANGE-CROWNED, but mostly YELLOW WARBLERS near the welcome sign wetlands. Northern Waterthrushes did not bother to tune in.

While the FOX SPARROW remains the loudest, I hardly heard any RUBY-CROWNED KINGLETS, the earliest Spring arrival. Some COMMON REDPOLLS blew raspberries as they flew over to another engagement. In town, the SONG SPARROW still sings lustily, but he’s on a year-round contract

Given that ARCTIC TERNS arrived in mid-May and presumably are on a tight schedule to raise a family and do a flip-tern back to Antarctica, I was amazed to watch a pair mating today at Afognak Beach. About 21 Terns fished or loafed on the recently exposed sand as the tide retreated. Failed nesters? Pair bonding? It did seem that a few carried unwilling passenger fish on a flight-see, but they seemed far from the known nesting sites. 

At least 40 BALD EAGLES shared the tide flats with about 150 fishers who flailed away with snag hooks hoping to intersect with a red salmon. Surprisingly, many did. One such tough fisherman dragged his heavy catch back to shore, with his small dog peering out from a backpack! Those who cleaned their catch left tasty carcasses for the Eagles to fight over. Quite the crazy scene at the tidelands and at the overflowing parking lot where eager fishers also parked along both sides of the road creating congestion. 

A big surprise at the Mile 1 wetlands: an adult TRUMPETER SWAN preening on the east side of the road. I only saw one Swan periscoping from the vegetation at the rear of the pond. Was one of the parents taking a spa break? If so, this pair has a very relaxed parenting style. 

I agonized over the grim possibilities when I only found one parent with 3 cygnets yesterday. Usually the babies are bookended or closely guarded by both adults wherever they go. I was so relieved to find them all together a few hours later feeding. Where had the other adult and two cygnets gone? Mysteries. 

Later in the afternoon on a quiet walk around Two Lakes Park, I came around the curve to find a momma moose with her two darling calves feeding in the shallows of Second Lake close to the trail.  I rushed past, but fortunately she seemed unperturbed. Then I really rushed, home to get my camera. When I returned, seemingly minutes later, people told me about JUST seeing them as they too, passed. But this enormous animal and her calves had vanished without a trace. No wet footprints, no sounds, nothing. I carefully checked here and there without success. 

But the wildlife show was not over! A huge boar brown bear peacefully grazed in the lush greenery of the Mt Marathon slope north of the race trail. Its light brown coloration made it easy to find after I got the tip around 9 pm. An adult BALD EAGLE soared past, apparently not encumbered by the loss of several primary feathers in its left wing leaving a large notch.

As the dusk crept in, a Hermit Thrush sang, scoring some overtime for the last official day of Spring.

Happy Birding!
Seward Sporadic Bird Report Reporter

Carol Griswold

 

 

Wednesday, June 8, 2022 Surf Scoters, Gray-cheeked Thrushes, Bull Moose, Trumpeter Swan Cygnets!

Seward, Alaska

Sunrise in the NNE at 4:38 am, sunset in the NNW at 11:18 pm, for a total day length of 18 hours and 39 minutes. Tomorrow will be 2 minutes and 10 seconds longer.

Overnight low of 45 rose to a high of 69 mitigated by a brisk northerly wind at 12-16 mph with gusts to 24 mph.

I was surprised to find nine SURF SCOTERS diving in the milky glacial waters just offshore at Fourth of July Beach. I consider this species as a winter resident and wondered why they were here in June like other tourists. All were males, in various stages of maturity. The colorful heads on the mature males with bright orange, red, and white bills, “skunk stripe” on the nape, and black bodies contrasted with the pale plume gushing from Godwin Glacier into the bay.

They dove in synchrony near the edge of the darker bay waters for several minutes, often rearing up to stretch their wings and paddle in formation like toy boats riding the swells. Suddenly, a resident BALD EAGLE startled them into flight and they were airborne with no interest in being featured on the menu. A Steller Sea Lion popped up to investigate, giving me a good look before quietly submerging.

The wind enticed three Bald Eagles to swoop and soar along the forested mountainside and high above the beach. Back and forth they cruised, harnessing the wind’s power. A pesky RAVEN tailgated one Eagle mercilessly; I think the Ravens have a nest nearby to protect. 

Two sailed in tight formation, the female’s wingspan noticeably larger than the male’s. To my amazement, the male flipped over and briefly flew upside down! VERY impressive! The third Eagle, a male, circled around with them in lazy loops, all crying loudly in fierce voices. 

If there’s a nest with eggs, they sure weren’t incubating them. Maybe the warm sun babysat while mom and dad took a spin around the block, accompanied by their chaperones.

In the evening after the wind calmed down, I once again drove out to Exit Glacier to quietly walk the marshy stretch near the welcome sign. 

Most of the time was spent birding by ear as the birds are so well-hidden in the leaves. What a joy to listen to the concert and identify the tireless members as they sang, listened, and sang anew: GRAY-CHEEKED THRUSH, SWAINSON’S THRUSH, HERMIT THRUSH, VARIED THRUSH, ROBIN; YELLOW-RUMPED WARBLER, YELLOW WARBLER, ORANGE-CROWNED WARBLER, NORTHERN WATERTHRUSH; FOX SPARROW, WILSON’S SNIPE, COMMON REDPOLLS, RUBY-CROWNED KINGLET, DOWNY WOODPECKER (on the drums). 

Fortunately, some birds chose their orchestral seats on bare limbs of dead trees. I actually saw and photographed a GRAY-CHEEKED THRUSH, YELLOW WARBLER, and COMMON REDPOLL.

As I strolled down the almost-deserted road, I passed a thought-provoking pile of brown bear scat loaded with fur. Baby moose? While interested to see the evidence, I did not wish to meet the maker while so far from the car.

Nootka Lupines and River Beauty glowed in the evening sunlight near the musical creek. So tranquil and special!

As I slowly drove back over the bridge, I stopped smack in the lane (no traffic). A magnificent bull moose crossing the river upstream! It’s not hard to find yearlings, cows and even calves seeking protection in town from bears, but a powerful bull moose scoffs at the thought. Bears watch out! 

He confidently waded up past his belly, seeming more aquatic than terrestrial, steadily crossing to the west side. His growing antlers protruded straight out from the sides of his head like furred brown broom sticks. Quite obviously, king of this area and another one I would rather not meet on foot!

Although it was after 10 pm, I took a small detour on the way home to check on the TRUMPETER SWANS at Mile 1, Nash Road. At first, all I could see were the two adults at the nest, partially hidden by the vegetation. Then they both slowly eased into the water and began paddling through a channel to an open area. What good timing! 

I almost held my breath. Were there cygnets?  Yes! How many? Five tiny white puffs trailed behind, leaving tiny wakes, working hard to keep up. The proud parents took their beautiful family to dinner across the calm reflection pond to feast on water horsetails. Congratulations! 

Happy Birding!

Carol Griswold

Seward Sporadic Bird Report Reporter

Saturday, June 4, 2022 two Exit Glacier butterflies

Seward, Alaska

Sunrise 4:42 am, sunset 11:12 pm, for a total daylight of 18 hours and 29 minutes. Tomorrow will be 2 minutes and 46 seconds longer.

Couldn’t stay away from “my” national park on another beautiful day.

Today, while enjoying the birdsong and emerging flowers along the Glacier View Loop Trail and lower part of the Harding Icefield Trail, I focused on butterflies.

White butterflies patrolled the trails with purpose, seemingly unfazed by the breeze. Back and forth they flew, occasionally engaging in fierce butterfly combat with another in a tight acrobatic swirl until one admitted defeat and veered away. Almost as hard to photograph as erratic warblers, I lucked out when they fluttered down for a drink of nectar on flowering rockcress and willowherb. One had a bill-shaped wedge in one wing, likely a narrow escape as a snack.

I learned that the Arctic White butterfly, Pieris angelika, is a northern butterfly of woodlands and alpine tundra. They overwinter as pupa, hidden in a chrysalis, and emerge in the spring to mate and lay eggs. The caterpillars feed on mustards, something to look for this summer. http://www.turtlepuddle.org/alaskan/butterfly2.html

I also caught a glimpse of the much larger, striking Canadian Tiger Swallowtail butterfly sailing past through the alders, too quick to photograph.

Like the birds and other wildlife, butterflies have a tight timeline to accomplish their mission to ensure the next generation. It sure would be fun to find a female laying eggs on a mustard, or find the emerging caterpillars. The secret life of butterflies, right under our noses.

Happy Birding!

Carol Griswold

Seward Sporadic Bird Report Reporter

https://australianbutterflies.com/8-differences-between-butterflies-and-moths/#:~:text=Widely%20speaking%2C%20moths%20tend%20to,butterflies%20possess%20far%20smaller%20scales.

https://butterfly-conservation.org/news-and-blog/what-is-the-difference-between-butterflies-and-moths

 

 

 

 

Friday, June 3, 2022 Exit Glacier Swainson’s Thrush

Seward, Alaska

I drove out Exit Glacier Road on this beautiful summer’s evening in a quest for the SWAINSON’S THRUSH. While town was in mountain shadows, the sun still poured over the glacier and mountains, and the temperature had cooled into pleasant mid-60s. Traffic was extremely light, allowing me to idle along at 3-4 mph with all the car windows open, listening while shooing away delighted mosquitoes. Meals on wheels!

The rich wetlands and streams habitat between the Park boundary at the bridge and just past the welcome sign rang with birdsong: YELLOW, ORANGE-CROWNED, YELLOW-RUMPED, WILSON’S WARBLERS, AND NORTHERN WATERTHRUSH. I again heard the GRAY-CHEEKED THRUSH, and the soothing woodland flute of the HERMIT THRUSH.

Along the edge of the road, a pumpkin-bright male VARIED THRUSH hurried along, busily pecking at something: basking flies? Gravel bits? A short way farther, a HERMIT THRUSH did the same, hopping across the road to continue foraging. Unfortunately, this attraction causes their untimely death by vehicle collisions. I buried a beauty in the duff a few days ago.

In the parking lot, a few vehicles waited as their owners trickled back after their adventures. More warblers serenaded from the alders and cottonwoods surrounding the parking lot, impossible to see among the fresh green leaves, yet seemingly close enough to touch. 

As the mountain shadows caught up, I finally heard a distant SWAINSON’S THRUSH’s rich upward-spiraling song. I’ll bet there are a lot more unheard notes if played back at half speed. So sweet to hear and know they survived a long and treacherous migration from Central and South America as far as Argentina. 

Check out this article: https://www.allaboutbirds.org/news/dividing-via-migration-swainsons-thrush/

I again idled back to the bridge, enjoying the continuing evening concert. These musicians work long hours with few breaks. Such a busy time to establish territories and find a mate before the real work begins of raising a family and no time (or need) to sing. 

“THANK YOU FOR VISITING YOUR NATIONAL PARK. Experience your America,” says the back of the welcome sign. It’s my pleasure; I so appreciate our public lands and this inspiring national park in my back yard.

Happy Birding!

Carol Griswold

Seward Sporadic Bird Report Reporter

 

Wednesday, June 1, 2022 Morning at Exit Glacier

Seward, Alaska

Morning dawned at 4:47 am, but I missed it. Nevertheless, I dashed out to Exit Glacier Road at 9 am and beat the crowds. What a pleasure to bird along the quiet road and walk along the trails, listening to the singing trees! It was rare to actually see one now that the leaves are bigger than a warbler.

I heard all of our most common warblers, except the Townsend’s Warbler, which was reported yesterday: ORANGE-CROWNED, YELLOW-RUMPED, YELLOW, WILSON’S, and NORTHERN WATERTHRUSH.

The thrush family was well-represented with VARIED THRUSH, HERMIT THRUSH, ROBIN, and GRAY-CHEEKED THRUSH (yay!) Occasionally, a visible Robin hopped through the dry leaves, making a racket like a bear. (Brown bear scat decorated the pullout by the welcome sign!) I listened hard for the Swainson’s Thrush, but failed. This will be a treat for next time.

FOX SPARROWS slung their rich melodies back and forth, defending territories. A DOWNY WOODPECKER flashed across the road. COMMON REDPOLLS blew raspberries from tree tops. High overhead, two SNIPE winnowed as they plunged to earth. A BLACK-CAPPED CHICKADEE sang its courtship song, “fee-bee.” A RAVEN patrolled the road for food of any kind.

RUBY-CROWNED KINGLETS, one of the first and most vocal arrivals, were notably scarce. I only heard one in the distance.

As I hiked up the trail, VIOLET-GREEN SWALLOWS swooped overhead, just about giving me whiplash trying to follow them with my camera. I was stunned when first a vibrant male landed on a cautionary rope, then a female, posing right in front of me! They continued to fly silently in tight circles until the female landed on the ground below the rope and started gathering bits of dry grass stems. Loaded up with a few 2x4s, she hauled her supplies back to the construction site and, I assume, expertly nailed them in place. Soon, she was back for more. 

The store was likely to close soon as the first mobs of noisers arrived, oblivious to the wonder of a tiny, beautiful bird gathering nest-building supplies right at their feet.

The big attraction for most, of course, was the rapidly diminishing but still magnificent glacier behind the Swallows. The blocky ice and crevasses glowed blue, even in the bright sunshine. The toe was in the shadows of the narrow canyon bed; I could not tell if it had lifted from the valley floor, but it had retreated significantly.

Silt-laden glacier water roared through the canyon and poured into the braided outwash plain. I left the Swallows and the people to hike back to the car, still enjoying the birdsong. Along the rushing Resurrection River, a single SPOTTED SANDPIPER called as it flew downstream.

What a delightful morning in Kenai Fjords National Park!

Happy Birding!

Carol Griswold

Seward Sporadic Bird Report Reporter

Wednesday, June 1, 2022 Night-time Robin and Saw-whet Owl

Seward, Alaska

Sunrise 4:47 am, sunset 11:07 pm for a total day length of 18 hours and 20 minutes. If that’s not plenty, tomorrow will be 3 minutes and 10 seconds longer.

Sunny May weather continued into June with clear blue skies and a hot high of 71 and an overnight low of 40. Mostly sunny in the forecast through the weekend, though we need rain. All over town, lawn sprinklers revive winter-ravaged lawns and give the trees and shrubs a much-needed drink.

I got a head start on this first day of June as I happened to be outside around 2:50 am with the good dog. The temp was a lovely 50º and calm. I could easily see in the dusky night; the horizon to the north was brightest, heralding the sun. By staring intently overhead, I could barely see two stars, the brighter one I believe was Vega. 

So peaceful! A male ROBIN sang sweetly from the spire of the neighbor’s spruce, silhouetted against the north sky. From the depths of the dark forest to the west on Mt Marathon’s slope, a plaintive “beep, beep, beep” kept time. Is this poor SAW-WHET OWL still hoping for a partner?

I wish we could have stayed out longer on this enchanting night, but we regretfully went inside. I tried to sleep with my window open, but soon realized my mistake. The bird world was waking up!

Civil twilight was at 3:21 am. As the light incrementally increased, more birds piped up. An ORANGE-CROWNED WARBLER trilled, a YELLOW-RUMPED WARBLER warbled as they do. I even heard a VIOLET-GREEN SWALLOW chirping. Was it trying to catch insects in this dim light?

I was hoping to hear Marbled Murrelets conversing as they commuted from the forest to the sea, but had to close the window so I could sleep.

Sleep! What a waste of time! There’s so much going on 24/7!

Happy Birding!

Carol Griswold

Seward Sporadic Bird Report Reporter