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
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