September 6th was World Shorebirds Day, and as any local library or video store can attest, I am not always known for my punctuality. So, I bring forth my shorebird offerings to the blogosphere a day late (or two) and few shorebirds short. Like any birder thinking inside the box, when August rolled around I was zeroed in on shorebirds as they are making their epic, transhemispheric migrations and occasionally stop over for a meal and a rest on their way south.
One always hopes for a classic mudflat on a drawn-down lake or a flooded field when shorebirding. Sometimes those just can’t be found. Sometimes one must bird the bottom of the barrel…or the top of a poop pond. I scoured many a wastewater treatment facilities at small municipalities in the area. Occasionally I came up with some solids, like this trio of Red-necked Phalaropes.
Red-necked Phalaropes at Blomkest WTP
Or some Semipalmated Sandpipers, which I pleasantly discovered was a new county bird after-the-fact.
Semipalmated Sandpipers at Lake Lillian WTP
Once I even got some good looks at a nice year bird, the Semipalmated Plover.
Semipalmated Plover at Bird Island WTP
Bad dad moment confession: the kids were with me for this one but in the car, opting to watch their video instead of shorebirds; half-way home I remembered this bird is one Evan had never seen and I had killer-no-binos-needed looks. You might say I flushed that opportunity away. Amiright?
I was as red-faced as this Stilt Sandpiper, which isn’t much but the appropriate amount since Evan is a take-it-or-leave-it birder these days.
Stilt Sandpiper at Bird Island WTP
Growing tired of the Tour-de Ponds, I kinda gave up on birding for awhile as work responsibilities took up more of my time. Then one day while I was sitting at home I had a recollection that instantly morphed into an epiphany. Near the end of July I remembered driving home with the family late in the evening after having spent the weekend in Duluth, and I recalled seeing a small, flooded spot in a soybean field not far from home with some sandpipery-looking birds even. We were too tired to stop, and so this patch was soon forgotten and never thought about for weeks. Until that moment. Instantly I headed for the door as I realized I had left a habitat-island of prime shorebird mudflats unchecked for all that time. When I got out there and saw how perfect the spot was in a landscape bereft of optimal habitat, I was kicking myself.
The flooded drain tile intake that created this spot was only about two acres in size. When there is no other habitat around, that is all you need. At first, there was nothing but Killdeer and the odd Lesser Yellowlegs or two, harbingers of good things to come.
So this is the story of my accidental patch. Having it so close to home gave me the opportunity to check it multiple times a day, day after day. Before I knew it, I was becoming a devoted patch birder whose persistence started to pay dividends in things like a pair of dapper Baird’s Sandpipers.
Having spent a great deal of time with these birds in good light, I think it’s fair to say that the Baird’s is near the top of my favorite shorebirds list.
One of the benefits of a having a patch is that, in addition to looking for new birds that have joined the party, you can also keep tabs on the regulars, like the two Stilt Sandpipers that were there day in and day out.
It was always exciting when there was someone new in the mix. This lone Semipalmated Plover was one of my favorites. Every day I looked for it among the myriad of Killdeer and was always relieved whenever I found it had decided to stick around for just one more day. I also made good on my previous failing and got Evan this lifer.
This patch I found turned out to be a great workshop on shorebird identification for myself. I had these birds close (30 feet or less) and in great light when I visited in the morning. I could clearly see subtle differences in coloration, differences in movements and behaviors, and relative size comparisons to other shorebirds. Even the ubiquitous Killdeer would sometimes do something interesting.
Often I would put my binoculars and camera down just to see if I could notice these things with the naked eye. Something happened that I never expected to happen–my confidence in identifying shorebirds went way up. And now I can concur with Nate the Machine that shorebirds really aren’t that hard after all. I would add that they are actually pretty fun too. In all, I tallied 11 shorebird species as an accidental patch birder. The numbers of each species were small and consistent, which made counting the birds a fun, manageable task.
As time and hot weather went on, the water kept receding in the ephemeral patch until there was nothing but some wet mud which was enough to sustain the persistent Killdeer and my Semipalmated Plover buddy but nothing else. Presently the ground is dry, and my patch birding days are over for now. But not my hopes. After all, it could still rain cats and dogs and big Plovers this fall, and I’ll be back in business. Stay tuned!
After our lightning-fast, dynamic sighting, we knocked on the door to thank Charlene, the birder and homeowner who made this amazing discovery. Charlene was the epitomy of Minnesota-nice, offering us coffee and donuts and showing us a plat book and telling us where to find other great birds in the area. It’s always a pleasure to meet a friendly birder in the field.
As much as we tried we could not turn up a Black-crowned Night Heron. I guess we can’t win it all, plus there was still more good birding ahead. Our next stop was the sewage ponds at the city of Herman where two Black-necked Stilts have decided to nest. Because of the work of some dedicated birders who brought this to the city’s attention, the city has agreed to not mow around this pond until the birds are done nesting. In fact, the townsfolk are pretty excited over the hub-bub at their local sewage ponds.
It was fun to see the female sit on the nest which has one confirmed egg.
All I could see were the peeps who are no bigger than sparrows. There were tons of them. It took my awhile but I finally located a phalarope. I certainly didn’t see 10. I zoomed in on it and showed it to Evan on the LCD. He was excited to get his Wilson’s Phalarope but then wanted to go right away. Birding doesn’t really compare to fishing to a 7-year-old. So I snapped a picture of this phalarope, just assuming it was a Wilson’s, the most likely species. Then I looked a little closer at the LCD and realized it was a male Red-necked Phalarope in breeding plumage! This was not a life bird as we saw a very drab version last August at the Atwater sewage ponds.
Now we had to stay for a bit because we hadn’t even gotten one of the two potential lifers there. I walked on the road to the view the north end of this pond, and I finally found the cache of phalaropes. These were definitely Wilson’s, so Evan got his life bird after all.
Then I spied some chunkier looking shorebirds that were bigger than the peeps but stockier than the phalaropes. The cloudy skies, distance, and strong wind buffetting my camera lens made it difficult to tell what they were. Were these our Stilt Sandpipers or a dowitcher of some sort? After looking back at my photos I could clearly see they were our Stilt lifers. It was interesting to read in the field guide, though, that they are compared to dowitchers in their behavior.
Three life birds for Evan, two for me, and a breeding plumage Red-necked Phalarope. I guess we better stay alert for a few more late migrants. As for the fishing report, Evan caught four Bluegill and quenched, albeit briefly, his thirst for fishing.