Saturday, August 20, 2022 Shorebirds on a soggy day

Seward, Alaska

Sunrise 6:25 am, sunset 9:39 pm for a total day length of 15 hours and 13 minutes. Tomorrow will be 5 minutes and 18 seconds shorter.

100% chance of rain does not necessarily mean that it will rain all day. 99% humidity only means the sensor is limited to two digits. 53º does not mean the thermometer is stuck, though it may seem that way.

For the past ten days, squall after squall of heavy rain grudgingly paused briefly for an intermission of light mist or miraculous no precip. More rain, including up to 1 ½” on Tuesday, is forecast for the rest of August. Gray, gray, gray.

Armed with raingear and an umbrella, I headed out, eager to check the beach scene. Several SAVANNAH SPARROWS popped out of the dripping vegetation. One posed obligingly on a seed-spire of Arctic wormwood then flew off as another briefly landed below.

Many ducks, including GREEN-WING TEAL, PINTAILS, AMERICAN WIGEON, and MALLARDS tipped up in the pond and dabbled in the flats. For the first time in many decades, they will not be hunted come September 1.  In June, DOT purchased the privately-owned parcel including most of the pond and beach, and decided to not allow hunting anymore. Yay, for the waterfowl!

At the edge of the receding tide, 25 BLACK TURNSTONES chittered as they flipped small rocks and picked through the shallow puddles. Six days ago, I was pleased to find 7, and 18 on July 22, but 25 was a new fall high.

A bit farther along, a single RUDDY TURNSTONE in non-breeding plumage, sporting a black bib, industriously demonstrated its rock-flipping technique. Tiny water droplets beaded on its back. I guessed it was a juvenile due to the bright outline of its feathers. A WESTERN SANDPIPER kept it company.

Several handsome stop-start SEMIPALMATED PLOVERS fanned out on patrol, closely scrutinizing the algae and nooks for marine worms and other invertebrates.

A small flock of about 25 peeps rose and fell along the edge, disappearing immediately among the drab rocks and mud. Two GREATER YELLOWLEGS fished in an intertidal stream.

Suddenly, a MERLIN landed on a driftwood perch near a couple of silent RAVENS. Almost instantly, another Merlin appeared and both zoomed off, apparently not the best of pals, closely circling each other, until I lost them in the clouds.

Just as I reached the car, the heavens again opened. Well-satisfied, it was a perfect time to retreat.

Happy Birding!
Carol Griswold
Seward Sporadic Bird Report Reporter

Wednesday, August 10, 2022 Yellow Legs Bonanza

Seward, Alaska

An unexpected gift arrived today, slipped between rainy days and a gloomy forecast for more until the end of time: sunshine! The rise in temperature from the low 50s to low 60s felt like summer once again. I left all my leaky raingear at home and headed for the beach with a smile.

For the past couple weeks, the most reliable shorebirds have been GREATER and LESSER YELLOWLEGS. Dashing after amphipods, small fish, and other entrees, they seemed oblivious to my presence. Apparently, a weird piece of driftwood suddenly appearing on the flats did not alarm them, and often they walked right towards and past me, only slightly puzzled. I guessed these were innocent babes-of-the-year.

As I strolled along, I passed several small groups of Yellowlegs, mostly Lessers. A few LEAST and WESTERN SANDPIPERS fed nearby, poking and prodding in the silt. Then I flushed two larger shorebirds, silhouetted against the sun in the worst possible lighting conditions. I hate to complain about the sun, especially when it is so scarce, but photography was less than ideal.

Fortunately, I was able to keep track of one and managed to slowly circle around to put the sun at my back. As I hoped, these were juvenile PECTORAL SANDPIPERS. The preoccupied bird found a feast under a stranded log at the side of a small intertidal stream, perhaps amphipods trying to hide. It moved slowly along the log, gobbling up the calories. Upon reaching the end, it walked up the bank, stopped, and tucked a sleepy head under a wing for a nap. 

The Pectoral Sandpipers must have flown a long way from the northern coastal tundra these past few days. This long-distance migrator is heading as far as southern South America. Some make a round-trip migration of nearly 19,000 miles according to All About Birds. 

The sun lit up the yellow legs of these shorebirds today, whether shimmering underwater, lifted gracefully in a step, posing with a reflection, or scurrying along. It was a Yellow Legs bonanza!

For a good article on how to tell Greater Yellowlegs and Lesser Yellowlegs apart, check out: https://www.thespruce.com/greater-or-lesser-yellowlegs-386349#:~:text=The%20greater%20yellowlegs%20and%20lesser,these%20two%20nearly%20identical%20species.

Happy Birding!
Carol Griswold
Seward Sporadic Bird Report Reporter

 

 

 

Sunday, August 7, 2022 Chatty Ravens

Seward, Alaska

Sunrise 5:54 am, sunset 10:15 pm, for a total day length of 16 hours and 21 minutes. Tomorrow will be 5 minutes and 4 seconds shorter.

It feels like fall with temps in the high 40s to mid 50s. The sun tries hard in the mornings, beaming through cloudy skies, then sulks behind the looming dark gray clouds loaded with rain and propelled by the wind. Another week of rain is in the forecast.

This morning, five juvenile RAVENS entertained my dog and me on a beach walk, likely a bit bored but intrigued with my linguistic attempts. They loitered on driftwood perches, watching me with interest, croaking and cracking the usual teen Raven jokes. Their feathers were a bit scruffy and their mouth linings were red. I have no idea what I said or the meaning of their replies, but it was a lively conversation. 

As I neared the groups, they lingered on a dare until the dog rushed them, tail wagging, and they scattered noisily to the next perch. A fun new game! A really brave youngster continually landed a short distance ahead on the sand and paraded around with bits of wood or dried seaweed, teasing the dog, ready to leap skywards out of reach then back down. 

After a while, the dog dropped her orange rubber ball to investigate the edibility of something organic and questionable. The brave Raven landed nearby and after rapidly calculating the probabilities and risks, carefully opened its beak wide and picked up the sandy ball. It was quite a mouthful!

Recalling the loss (and eventual retrieval) of a green tennis ball some years ago that was snatched and taken for a flight, I slowly moved in. The Raven eyed me closely, then chose to leave the prize and discussed the sudden reversal of fortune from the next perch. No hard feelings when I put it in my pocket for safekeeping.

Eventually, they all flew off, having received simultaneous text alerts about a hot party down the beach with free food. I hope I meet this interactive, confident, curious bunch again. They sure livened up an otherwise fairly quiet bird walk: a few GREATER and LESSER YELLOWLEGS, one SAVANNAH SPARROW, two BONAPARTE’S GULLS, a dozen DOUBLE-CRESTED CORMORANTS, and many Gulls in the distance. 

Happy Birding!
Carol Griswold
Seward Sporadic Bird Report Reporter