Our Southern Door County Christmas Bird Count (CBC) was held
this past Saturday, Dec. 27, under challenging conditions – a
lack of snow cover and relentlessly strong winds. Fortunately
the temperature was above freezing. The mild weather, combined
with plenty of fallow fields that were apparently well-supplied
with small rodents, obviously has appealed to the hawks.
Seldom on past CBC’s have the counters experienced such a
high population of especially American kestrels and northern
harriers, along with plenty of red-tailed and rough-legged hawks
and at least one or two sharp-shinned and Cooper’s hawks. They
will remain in the area as long as the ground remains free of
snow-cover and they can find food.
One pleasant surprise of the day for our group of four was
watching two short-eared owls hunting for mice and meadow voles
in the tall grass interspersed with young evergreen trees north
of Flat Road, south of the village of Kohlberg. It was at this
very same site in January and February of 1995 that an estimated
75 of these gorgeous little owls were studied and photographed.
The other bird that was a group highlight for the day was a
flock of 30 snow buntings. We explored practically every
dead-end road within our count area and, fortunately, the one
that took us near a small quarry produced these exquisite
visitors from the far north.
What deeply impressed us was their powerful and sweeping
flight as a close-knit flock, wheeling and turning in unison as
though they were thoroughly enjoying the day in spite of the
strong wind. Finally they came to rest on a small pile of
dolostone within 50-60 feet from where we stood, spellbound, all
binoculars and my spotting scope carefully trained on them.
Fortunately I was able to get a few images with my digital camera
of these short-legged plump birds very nicely camouflaged among
the similar shades of small rough stones.
Sharp, biting, September frosts of over three months ago north
of the Arctic Circle had a sudden impact on the daily activities
of the snow buntings. One after another the small family groups
of these hardy boreal birds headed south even though weed and
grass seeds were not in short supply there on their nesting
grounds. Strangely, they would probably encounter more
unseasonable snow as they continued south into the so-called
lower Arctic regions.
These rugged birds that breed farther north (83 degrees N.
Latitude) than any other songbird, had arrived on their nesting
grounds during the first half of April, the males preceding the
females and first-year birds as so frequently occurs in other
songbird populations. By early May, due to their being well
within the "Land of the Midnight Sun," their morning
activities began as early as 1 a.m. Food-finding, territorial
and nesting activities would occupy all but about two or three
hours of each twenty-four period. Insects, including flies,
mosquitoes, moths and crane flies made up most of their summer
diet. These bluebird-sized birds took on some rusty-colored
feathers, the young in their post-juvenile molts, the older birds
in their post-nuptial feather change. Now the adults, instead of
sporting flashy black and white plumage, carried more rusty-brown
or rust coloring in their feathers.
However, the undersides of their wings and bellies retained
much white, making them stand out remarkably well from any other
small flocking songbirds of this region, unmistakable in their
identification.
Gradually they moved southward, eating fewer insects and more
seeds as the weather turned colder, their flocks increasing in
size. It would be a common occurrence for Lapland longspurs and
horned larks to very peaceably join the flock for the duration of
the winter. (Look carefully for dark-colored birds among the
next flock of snow buntings you see.)
Earlier-than-normal sightings of snow buntings, at least
according to some wise old-timers, might point toward a colder
winter with more snow. Some Scandinavians refer to them as hard
winter birds. What we do know for sure is that these welcome
creatures will feast on weed and grass seeds as long as the snow
does not cover the plants. The deeper the snow becomes the
farther south these hardy winter vagabonds will travel, perhaps
as far as southern Indiana and central Kansas.
Come late February the snow buntings will slowly drift back
north to the longer Arctic days. We will have claimed them only
briefly as "ours" while they laced the winter skies and
fields with delicate songs and their flashy black and white
beauty.
This small flock of well-camouflaged snow buntings
rest and preens on a pile of dolomite stones.
This column appeared in the Door County Advocate
on 01/04/2004.
© Copyright 2004 Roy Lukes. All rights reserved.
