Thursday, March 23, 2023 Lapland Longspurs

Seward, Alaska

The big storm moved in Tuesday evening, dumping another 7” of sparkling snow overnight. I shoveled that off my walkway and peeled it off the roof. It kept snowing. By early afternoon Wednesday, snow visibly piled up at a rate of 2” per hour, adding another 7” of heavy, high-grade snow-sculpture medium. I shoveled that, including the 2’-high berm along the alley. But by mid-afternoon, the storm ran out of ammo, and the sun peeked through ragged gaps in the clouds. A reprieve!

Today continued mostly sunny and beautiful, as if in apology for yesterday’s bad manners. At Afognak Beach, I marveled at the spectacular backdrop of the surrounding snow-covered mountains, no longer showing wind-blasted bare ridges.

One, then four TRUMPETER SWANS flew head-high across the exposed tidelands from the eelgrass beds to the freshwater tributaries, waiting for this winter to end and ponds to thaw in April.

Just ahead, two First-of-Season LAPLAND LONGSPURS riffled through thick beach wrack, somehow finding calories for lunch in the smorgasbord. With a “Teeoww!” and a dry rattle call, off they flew. 

An immature BALD EAGLE, another survivor of the storm and this winter, basked in the sunshine at the Point. I heard the chatter of RED CROSSBILLS flitting through the spruce trees nearby. 

Everything seemed to be celebrating the promise of Spring on this bright new day. The emerging Sitka willow buds and the Lapland Longspurs say it’s starting! 

Happy Birding!
Carol Griswold
Seward Sporadic Bird Report Reporter

    

                            

 

 

Monday, March 20, 2023 Happy Spring Equinox! (and bird report)

Seward, Alaska

Sunrise 8:00 am, sunset 8:12 pm for a total day length of 12 hours with a 11-minute bonus. Tomorrow will be 5 minutes and 30 seconds longer as we surge towards Summer Solstice. Spring Equinox today at 1:20 pm!

March came in like a lion and kept right on roaring, dumping snow until our arms were ready to fall off shoveling it off roofs, driveways, and paths. Responding to a berserk thermostat, the temperature plunged, rose into the mid 30s creating slush and deep puddles, and wobbled up and down, spewing snow, graupel, sleet, and rain with occasional bursts of warm sunshine.

I seized a brief respite at the tidelands as the morning haze retreated to the surrounding glowering gray clouds. A pair of white TRUMPETER SWANS paddled down an intertidal creek to the bay. Two black RAVENS relentlessly chased a third, no escape, back and forth across the sky, the only other motion in the otherwise quiet, monochrome landscape.

The snow-laden clouds couldn’t wait any longer and resumed their work as I turned to walk back. Suddenly, “criiickk, criickkk, chew, chew!” Two SNOW BUNTINGS landed at the tide’s edge with the snowflakes. Then more, and more and more. I guesstimated about 50, the continuing flock, though it was hard to discern the small black, white, and tan birds in the snow and beach sand.

They poked and probed right along the edge, reminding me of shorebirds. I finally got a photo of one with a marine worm wrapped around its bill. None of the beach rye stalks have seeds anymore, so they switched to marine life from the bountiful sea.

I enjoyed watching them feed in this new-to-me habitat, then rambled off. Ahead, a flock of MALLARDS napped as the tide gently lapped ever higher up their orange legs. They slowly pushed off and floated away.

Back at the Harbor Uplands, a single GREAT BLUE HERON stood momentarily on the obsolete Big Dipper coal loader then awkwardly launched into flight, long neck and legs outstretched on the descent.

At home, despite the snow and squalls, I heard a DARK-EYED JUNCO trilling its spring song. The sun is ever higher, and hope is in the air.

Happy Birding!
Seward Sporadic Bird Report Reporter

Carol Griswold

 

 

 

 

Friday, March 3, 2023 Boreal Owl (sad)

Seward. Alaska

Sunrise 7:52 am, sunset 6:30 pm, for a total day length of 10 hours and 37 minutes. Tomorrow will be 5 minutes and 20 seconds longer.

March came in like a lion, roaring, with NNW winds 14-18 mph, gusting up to 40 mph. Temperatures continued chilly with a low of 9 and a high of 17. Out of the wind, if one could find such a spot, the bright sun felt warm and promising. In a surprise move, the forecast predicts rising temperatures of 32 on Sunday, 37 on Monday, and 40 on Tuesday!

This afternoon at Afognak Beach, 17 TRUMPETER SWANS, including cygnets, hugged the cobbled, wave-dashed south shore, at times standing on the beach. Tossed by the wind, thirty-some ROCK SANDPIPERS blew up and fluttered down at the edge of the ebbing tide, feeding furiously. A dozen MALLARDS huddled nearby may have provided windbreaks as they too sought calories.

Somewhat sheltered in the boughs of spruce trees, two BALD EAGLES rested, always watching, in the sunshine. A chatty MAGPIE supervised one, just out of reach. Four RED CROSSBILLS bravely perched at the tips of the spruce, feathers blowing in the wind.

It all seemed normal for this blustery winter day until a friend alerted me to a dead BOREAL OWL, discovered at the base of a large spruce tree around 12:30 pm. Shocking! I refound the little owl, a handful of fluff with a yellowish beak, white dots all over the head, and larger white spots on its back and wings. Her feather-clad feet were soft as a cat’s, but the black talons on the business side were sharp and the soles heavily textured for grip. 

Owls have zygodactyl feet, with the second and third toes in front and the first (like our big toe) and fourth behind. Unlike woodpeckers, owls can rotate the outer fourth talon from the rear to the front.

Her eyes were sunken, the head tilted to the side, and the tail was bent upwards; otherwise, she seemed uninjured in regards to an attack. She may have lain there for a day or two. I wondered at her fate. Did she starve, unable to find enough voles with the weather challenges of deep snow, wind, and cold? Weighed with a postage scale, she was just over 4 ounces, which did not seem too abnormal. A normal female is much heavier at 4.6 to 6.3 oz compared to a male at about 3.8 oz.

Boreal Owls are uncommon for this coastal area; more likely found north of the Mile 12 Divide. NORTHERN SAW-WHET OWLS are expected here instead. They have been calling at Bear Lake and other areas north of town. I haven’t heard any in town yet.

This winter has been tough for Owls. I’m still hoping and listening (whenever the wind stops) for my neighborhood Saw-whets. Now I know there might be a Boreal around too.

Happy Birding!
Carol Griswold
Seward Sporadic Bird Report Reporter