Winter Eagle

I have been going through older photos lately and finding some that I hadn't processed before. I plan on sharing a few here as I go through them. This is the first one - taken on my weekly commute through the lonely and beautiful stretch between Fort Peck and Billings a couple of winters ago. My drives were time lapse snapshots of a landscape in transition as it slowly blended into spring from one of the harshest winters in many years. The Golden Eagles starting to become more prevalent in late February and their gargoyle shapes topped many on the buttes and rocky outcrops along my route.

Weekend Eagles (and other raptors too)

This weekend I drove 280 miles to spend an evening with some good friends. It was worth every mile in the laughter therapy alone. An added bonus was the opportunity to spend some time in the car - just me and the dog- thinking and pondering while traveling through some great country, as well as a morning wandering along the river as the sun illuminated a few days worth of results from frost building fog.  I always appreciate any time I get to spend visiting with my Mom too and this time I didn't have to share that time with anyone else - an added bonus.

I have gotten to know the stretch of highway I travel between Billings and Fort Peck quite well. A couple of winters ago I drove it twice a week. I had started a new job in Billings, but the rest of my life was still in Fort Peck. Each drive was a single frame in a stop action feature that now in retrospect forms a movie of a  particularly brutal winter that was slowly defeated by the advancing spring time and not soon enough. There were frames dominated by blowing snow and completely white landscapes and latter frames defined by soaked landscapes and raging prairie streams and rivers. The main actors in this drama were the pronghorn I observed each trip trying to survive long enough to intersect the advancing spring before their bodies ran out of any source of energy they could eke from the landscape or themselves.

This trip, particularly my return trip on Sunday, was dominated by raptors. On Saturday morning I took a walk near the Missouri River after the omnipresent fog of late had lifted to reveal a landscape gilded in heavy white frost. There weren't many birds around.

A few Redheads on the kids fishing pond that is kept ice-free by an aerator and more waterfowl, including some Canada Geese, were present on the open river, but there were no passerines to be found in the buffaloberry thickets or cottonwoods along the trail. But there were eagles. Bald Eagles - and quite a few. I counted about 50 in the immediate area, but made no distinction between adults and immatures. Today Dad counted 43 adults and 31 immatures in this same area.

That afternoon I encountered my first snowy owl of this winter season. An immature that was perched on a lightpole on top of Fort Peck Dam.

On my way to and from Fort Peck I encountered a large number Rough-legged Hawks. They are a standard sight each winter with particular stretches of highway noted for the presence of these visitors from the Arctic. I also was able to find this adult Prairie Falcon perched along the roadside.

The raptors that really captured my attention this trip though were the Golden Eagles. I don't remember how many I observed on my way north, but on my return trip I observed at least 25 individuals - both adults and immature birds- but mostly adults, including a few obvious pairs perched near each other. Sometimes they were on a powerpole but a large number were observed perched on bluffs, gumbo knobs, and rock outcrops that dominate this country. The presence of these distinctive profiles perched on these natural vantage points has always made this landscape for me. There is something deeply comforting to know that this country is still big enough to keep eagles.

Others,  however, apparently don't think so.  On a small approach off the highway I found an adult female bird lying on her breast in the gravel and short grass. The posture was distinctive and depressing. I knew the bird was dead, and I also knew the she hadn't died from a vehicle collision - the posture is not indicative of the violent rendering that vehicles inflict on large birds. When I rolled her over it was apparent that poison was not the culprit either - one of her legs had been nearly severed by a bullet that eventually killed her. I traced the blood trail back to the gate post where she had been sitting when she was shot and I could see the spray of blood in the snow behind the post. She was still gorgeous, even in death. Burnished golden hackles etched into the rich brown of her nape. And the feet -  massive yellow cable and black stiletto ends - each deadly appendage emerging from the feathered mass of the body like snakes from Medusa's head. I have trapped and handled a number of Golden Eagles, but every time I see one up close I am awed by the overt presence of power that emanates from feet not much smaller than my hands (and on a few occasions I have felt that power directly and then the awe transcends to borderline fright).
Although we have certainly come a long way in our understanding of the ecological role of raptors and predators in general, the dead birds I find like this remind me that there are plenty of others that still have a much different perspective. It makes me wonder how many birds like this one are left lying in the dirt away from the highway. It was a rather depressing end to an otherwise enjoyable weekend.

I did get to see coyote this weekend though. See if you can find him too.

 

A day in the Field

Fort Peck, MT - Yesterday I spent the day looking for Greater Sage-grouse feathers. I am collecting feathers for DNA work being done by a colleague in Alberta. On the way to my first lek I flushed a young Golden Eagle perched on a rock along the dirt road I was traveling on. It had a hard time getting off the ground and it's distended crop suggested that it had been eating something nearby. I stepped out of the truck and found the remains of a Cottontail Rabbit that the bird had eaten. It must have been pretty hungry - there was nothing left of the rabbit except hair, the backbone, leg bones and feet. Even the skull was picked clean with only the jaws and teeth left.

The first two leks I visited were easy to find. I had surveyed both of them earlier and they were fairly close to the road so even with the birds gone I was able to find the lek pretty easily. The last lek I had surveyed earlier too but it was nearly a half mile away from my vantage point and in the middle of a large flat area. I spent about a half an hour wandering around playing the hotter/colder game with the density of green worms of grouse poop and grouse tracks in the mud. I finally made my way to the main area of the lek and gathered my last pile of feathers.

The weather has finally gotten back to April normal here. It happened about 5:00 Thursday evening. Today was the best so far and the boys and I spent the better part of this morning wandering around the yard doing spring chores. The birds in the backyard haven't changed much lately. Red-winged Blackbirds, House Sparrows, House Finches, Robins, and Blue Jays are about it. One of the Blue Jays coming into the yard is a bird that I banded here last fall. I do still have about 5 or 6 Common Redpolls at the thistle feeder and there were even about 20 here on Wednesday when it was fairly cold here.
I haven't had a chance to go to a Sharp-tailed Grouse lek in many years but I recently found this web site that has some great photos of Sharp-tails dancing. Makes me want to get out to a Sharp-tail lek this spring!