What a week! and it's not over yet.
First of year birds are flying in fast and furious at the farm and
around Clearwater county...
Sunday 4/4
American Woodcock, peenting from a south facing hill on the farm
Belted Kingfisher, creek south of Clearbrook rice paddies
Tuesday 4/5
Red-wing Blackbird, south of the farm
Turkey Vulture, several flying over downtown Bemidji
Wednesday 4/6
Eastern Bluebird
Sandhill Crane, they have been calling here sense March 21st, now I
finally saw the pair!
Thursday 4/7
Eastern Phoebe
Yellow-shafted Flicker
American Tree-Sparrow
Wilson's Snipe
Friday 4/8
Common Grackle, I rolled over on my pillow this morning, peering
through sleepy, un-spectacled eyes and was greeted by two audacious
Grackles who swooped in and commandeered the feeders.
Epilogue
I pulled an all-nighter Wed-Thurs to run two of my owl routes back to
back north of Gonvick and Gully. (Polk, Pennington, Red Lake
counties) Started late, midnight and finished just before dawn. Why
race home to a soft bed when the wetlands were just waking up? I
birded another four hours before hitting the sack at 10Am.
As dawn crept in I listened to the wakening. Canada Geese, Mallards,
Tundra and Trumpeter Swans, vocal all night, kicked into higher gear
and were joined by Wood Duck and Blue-winged Teal. The occasional
rattles of Sandhills exploded in a cacophony of prehistoric
exaltations from three large groups cloistered around the marsh
edges. Wilson's Snipe put away their winnowing and engaged in furtive
territorial chatter. Woodcocks were to pooped to peent much longer
and finally retired their aeronautic frisson. Junco peeped at the
growing light through the tangle of Dogwood and Willow choking the
ditches. A mew, a chortle, a low rumble and whine.. the voices of
drowsy Sharptail Grouse tuning their instruments for the morning
dance recital. They make their way to the road and pick gravel.
Perhaps it enhances the vocal qualities of their performance as well
as aiding in digestion! The low, floating silhouette of a male
Northern Harrier, drifts in and out of a light fog clinging to the
wet meadow. Over a backdrop of brassy Redwing Blackbirds come the
lush, liquid warbles of Western Meadowlark. A harbinger so sweet and
promising, his voice goes beyond making your skin tingle. It melts
through into your bones, a tonic for the winter weary soul well worth
losing sleep over.
On Monday next I will be sitting in a blind at Glacial Ridge NWR with
a couple of good friends who have recently caught the birding bug.
After exploring the refuge I hope to take them pond hopping. (sewage
ponds of course!)
Kelly Larson
The Bagley Farm -Clearwater
The Bemidji Loft -Beltrami
Minnesota
Eschew Obfuscation!
The middle of Nowhere is Somewhere!
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