Category Archives: Travel

Cranes: The Great Migration

January 31, 2019Cranes, Migration, TravelKate St. John

Sandhill cranes at the Platte River, Nebraska (photo by USFWS via Wikimedia Commons)

When I saw forty sandhill cranes near Volant, Pennsylvania on Monday, I thought of the time I saw 500,000 in Nebraska in March 2004. Half a million sandhill cranes are a breathtaking, exhilarating, stupendous experience! It has to be seen in person. Here’s what it’s like.

Every spring the cranes leave their wintering grounds in Mexico and Texas to converge on an 80-mile stretch of the Platte River in Nebraska. Their numbers peak in March when 80% of all the sandhill cranes on Earth are there.

Map of sandhill crane spring migration in the central flyway (linked from Visit Grand Island website)

Cranes are drawn to this location because the Platte is still “a mile wide and an inch deep” between Lexington and Grand Island. The water is shallow enough to roost in overnight and there’s abundant plant food in local wetlands and waste corn in the cattle fields(*). The cranes spend three to four weeks fattening up for their 3,000 mile journey to their breeding grounds in Canada, Alaska and Siberia.

At dusk and dawn they move to and from the Platte River in spectacular numbers. Their sight and sound is amazing, especially when you’re in a bird blind near the action. They dance with their mates and jump for joy.

I saw their great migration in late March 2004. Before my trip I booked dusk and dawn visits to the bird blinds at the Platte, then I flew to Omaha and drove west to Grand Island and Kearny (pronounced Karney). I didn’t mind the 2.5 hour drive because I wanted to see a piece of the Great Plains and experience this: For over 100 miles there are no cranes at all then suddenly, just as I-80 approaches the Platte River, the sky is filled with them. I’d arrived!

I saw hundreds of thousands of sandhill cranes at dusk and dawn and spent my days at local birding hotspots where my highlights were white pelicans, burrowing owls, lapland longspurs, and a Harris’ sparrow. I had hoped to see a whooping crane but I was too early that year. (Whoopers leave Texas later than the sandhills.)

This 8-minute video from The Crane Trust gives you another view of the spectacle.

Nothing can beat the sandhill cranes’ migration in Nebraska in March! Don’t miss it!

For information on seeing the cranes’ migration visit Nebraska Flyway‘s website with links to Sandhill Viewing, lodging and food, brochures and maps.

(photo credits: cranes at the Platte from Wikimedia Commons, map of crane migration linked from Visit Grand Island, click on the captions to see the originals. YouTube video by The Chicago Tribune)

(*) There’s a connection between beef and cranes: Half a million sandhill cranes get enough to eat in Nebraska because there’s leftover corn in the cattle fields. There are more cattle than humans in Nebraska.

A Sound That Reminds Me of Home

December 9, 2018Travel, VocalizationsKate St. John

Rufous piha (photo by Amy E. McAndrews on Flickr, Creative Commons license)

Last March while birding along Panama’s Pipeline Road we heard a sound that reminded me of home.

The bird was loud and its sound was tropical — not a Pennsylvania bird — but something about it seemed familiar.

Here’s what we heard:

Rufous piha (audio from Xeno Canto XC107022)

Our guide identified it as the rufous piha (Lipaugus unirufus) a member of the Cotinga family.

So why was his song familiar?

I used to hear a similar sound in the Wetlands Room at the National Aviary. The sound is gone now — the bird passed away — but for many years his voice defined that room.

Screaming piha (audio from Xeno Canto, XC444908)

The screaming piha (Lipaugus vociferans) is a member of the Cotinga family native to the Amazon. The bird looks boring but his voice is not.

Screaming piha (photo by Dick Daniels via Wikimedia Commons)

It’s too bad he’s no longer with us at the National Aviary. His voice from the Amazon reminds me of Pittsburgh.

(photo of rufous piha by Amy E. McAndrews on Flickr, Creative Commons license; photo of screaming piha from Wikimedia Commons; audio from Xeno Canto. Click on the captions to see the originals.)

Scenes from Acadia, September 2018

September 29, 2018TravelKate St. John

29 September 2018:

For more than 30 years my husband and I have traveled to Acadia National Park on Mt. Desert Island, Maine in early September. This year we went later in the month to enjoy cooler weather and colorful leaves. The slideshow above includes scenes from our trip, September 18-26.

As you can see, fall color hasn’t peaked yet in Acadia. The best leaf-color will occur in early October.

(photos by Kate St. John)

Rescuing Baby Puffins

August 24, 2018Bird Behavior, Newfoundland, Water and ShoreKate St. John

Earlier this month we learned that mayflies have a fatal attraction to outdoor lights. So do fledgling puffins!

In August and September young puffins, called pufflings, make their first flight from their nesting islands in Newfoundland. Guided by the light of the moon they head for the open ocean. Unfortunately, when it’s foggy or moonless they’re confused by outdoor lights and head inland where they become stranded and die.

Years ago Juergen and Elfie Schau of Germany noticed stranded pufflings near their summer home at Witless Bay, Newfoundland so they rescued them and returned them to the sea. Soon their neighbors joined them and in 2011 the project grew into the Canadian Parks and Wilderness Society’s (CPAWS) annual Puffin and Petrel Patrol.

Travelers from around the world come to Witless Bay in late summer to help rescue baby puffins. The stranded birds are captured in small nets, placed in carriers, and released in the morning when the birds can see where they need to go — out to sea.

The video above shows a typical puffling rescue day at Witless Bay, NL. Look closely and you’ll see that this is the same beach where I saw the capelin rolling in July! Newfoundland is awesome!!

Read more about the Puffin and Petrel Patrol in this article from Mother Nature Network. Thanks to John English for sharing it.

(video by CBC News: The National on YouTube)

Carnivorous Damsel

August 15, 2018Insects, NewfoundlandKate St. John

Damselfly with a mayfly lunch, La Manche Trail, NL, July 2018 (photo by Bill Anderson) — *Damselfly with lunch, La Manche Trail, NL, July 2018 (photo by Bill Anderson)*

Dragon or damsel? What’s in a name?

I know dragonflies are carnivorous but the name “damselfly” sounds too delicate for that. Not so.

This damselfly in Newfoundland is eating a mayfly for lunch.

The mayfly — not the damsel — is in distress.

Thanks to David Trently for showing us this wonder of nature and Bill Anderson for photographing it.

(photo by Bill Anderson)

The Phantom

August 10, 2018Insects, Newfoundland, TravelKate St. John

Phanthom crane fly in Newfoundland, July 2018 (photo by Bill Anderson) — *Phanthom crane fly, Newfoundland, 2018 (photo by Bill Anderson)*

This phantom lives in freshwater wetlands from the Atlantic coast to the Rocky Mountains. Gliding on the shady edge of dense vegetation he usually goes unseen. It takes practice to notice a phantom crane fly.

I first learned about phantom crane flies (Bittacomorpha clavipes) in Newfoundland when our guide David Trently pointed one out. “There it is.”

I couldn’t see it. “Where is it? How big is it? What should I look for?” I was so frustrated! The bug was flying right in front of me but he was invisible.

The phantom landed and Bill Anderson took his picture. I followed Bill’s camera lens and found the fly. Aha!

When the phantom took off, I followed him with my eyes as he floated among the shadows. Here’s a video that shows what that’s like. (Note: If you don’t like snakes turn off the video before the 2:20 mark to avoid seeing one.)

Phantom crane flies can move like this because they’re very lightweight, their long legs are hollow, and their tarsomere (foot segments) are swollen and filled with air. They spread their legs to catch the breeze and barely flap their wings.

Their long crane-like legs make them phantoms in the air.

Read more about phantom crane flies in this article by the BugLady at University of Wisconsin, Milwaukee.

(photo by Bill Anderson; click on the caption to see the original. video by Chromatophone Productions on YouTube)

Balsam Blue

July 22, 2018Newfoundland, Travel, TreesKate St. John

Balsam cones, La Manche Trail, Newfoundland, July 2018 (photo by Kate St. John)

Did you know that the immature cones on balsam firs are gray-blue? I didn’t because …

I see balsam trees every year in Maine but I’m only there in September when the cones are ripe and brown and about to disintegrate to release their seeds.

Where I live in western Pennsylvania there are no balsam firs (range map below) but eastern hemlocks are common. Hemlocks have some traits that are similar to balsam firs, so …

Balsam fir range map (image from Wikimedia Commons)

… when I saw balsam firs (Abies balsamea) in Newfoundland I misidentified them at first. 🙁

The balsam’s lower/newer twigs have flat needles on flat-looking branches. Eastern hemlocks do, too, so I called this a hemlock. (wrong!)

Balsam fir, symmetrical flat lower branch (photo from Wikimedia Commons)

Balsam needles have two white stripes on the underside. So do eastern hemlocks so I said “hemlock” again. (wrong!)

However, the needles curled on the higher branches. Hemlock needles never do that.

Morning dew on balsam fir needles (photo from Wikimedia Commons)

In the end, the cones are the easiest way to identify balsam firs. The cones stand straight up and in summer they’re balsam blue.

p.s. Here’s a website that describes how to identify pines, spruces, and firs: Conifer Confusion: An Identification Guide for Pine, Spruce and Fir Trees. I wish it said more about hemlocks!

(balsam cone photo by Kate St. John. All other photos from Wikimedia Commons; click on the images to see the originals)

Tamarack Rose

July 21, 2018Newfoundland, Travel, TreesKate St. John

Tamarack cone in Newfoundland, July 2018 (photo by Kate St. John)

This month in Newfoundland I found a rose on the tamarack.

Tamaracks (Larix laricina) are North American larches whose name means “wood is good for fence posts” in Algonquin.

The “roses” are their immature cones. In summer the needles are green and the cones are red.

Tamarack branch with cones, Newfoundland, July 2018 (photo by Kate St. John)

In autumn the needles turn yellow and fall off the tree.

Tamarack in autumn (photo from Wikimedia Commons)

And the cones turn brown and dry out. They persist on the tree all winter and are still present when the needles grow again in the spring.

Mature tamarack cones in spring with young foliage (photo from Wikimedia Commons)

You have to look in the summer to see a tamarack rose.

(tamarack immature cone photos by Kate St. John. Yellow tamarack and mature cones photos from Wikimedia Commons; click on the images to see the original)

Merlin Attack! Raven or Crow?

July 20, 2018Bird Behavior, Birds of Prey, Crows & Ravens, Newfoundland, TravelKate St. John

Merlin attacks a big black corvid at Renews, NL (photo by Trina Anderson) — Merlin attacks a raven at Renews, NL, 10 July 2018 (photo by Trina Anderson)

Last week in Newfoundland our birding tour witnessed an amazing bird interaction when a merlin attacked a big black corvid in the air. It happened so fast that we had to think hard about the birds’ identities.

Yes the attacker was a merlin — a small, streaky dark, very fast falcon that made this sound as it attacked. (Xeno-canto XC332445: alarm calls of merlin pair recorded by Pritam Baruah in Churchill, MB, August 2016)

But was the big black bird a crow or a raven?

Fellow traveler Trina Anderson captured the action with her camera. Before we saw her photos we could only identify the corvid by size and behavior. We decided “raven” based on the relative size of the two birds and the behavior of the raven.

Merlins are 2/3 the size of a crow but less than half the size of a raven. Overhead the merlin was tiny compared to the bird it attacked, so it had to be a raven. Trina’s photos show the size difference.
The black bird barely flapped during the interaction and it flipped upside down in flight (see the last photo). Crows flap hard when they’re under attack and they don’t fly upside down.
During the fight it was hard to see the diagnostic field mark — the tail — but Trina’s next photo shows the corvid has a wedge-shaped tail. That means “raven.”

Merlin attacks a corvid, Renews, NL, 10 July 2018 (photo by Trina Anderson) — Merlin attacks raven, Renews, NL, 10 July 2018 (photo by Trina Anderson)

Merlin attack! Raven flips upside down, Renews, NL, 10 July 2010 (photo by Trina Anderson) — Merlin attacks! Raven flips upside down, Renews, NL, 10 July 2010 (photo by Trina Anderson)

It’s hard to tell ravens from crows unless you have some practice. Get tips on how to tell them apart in this 3 minute video from The Raven Diaries: Ravens vs Crows, they’re different!

(photos by Trina Anderson. See more of photos of our Newfoundland trip in her Flickr album.)

Gannets Galore!

July 18, 2018Nesting & Courtship, Newfoundland, Travel, Water and ShoreKate St. John

Northern gannet in flight, Cape St. Mary's, NL (photo from Wikimedia Commons) — Northern gannet in flight, Cape St. Mary’s, NL (photo from Wikimedia Commons)

18 July 2018

A week ago, on a Partnership for International Birding trip to Newfoundland, we visited Cape St. Mary’s Ecological Reserve during a rare fog-free moment. Our goal was to see nesting seabirds up close at Bird Rock, one of the most accessible sites in the world.

Bird Rock is one of many cliffs at Cape St. Mary’s but it’s unique because it’s separated from the mainland by a deep chasm only a few feet from the trail’s end. The birds are safe from land-based predators yet we could see them easily.

The main attractions are 24,000 northern gannets (Morus bassanus) who spend their lives on the ocean but return to Cape St. Mary’s every spring to breed with the same mate at the same nest. Almost as large as bald eagles, their wingspan is 5.75 feet but they don’t weigh as much. I love them for their size, sleek beauty, and their ability to plunge-dive at 50 mph to catch fish in the sea.

From the Visitors Centre we walked the trail across the barrens to get to the viewing area.

The landscape on the trail out to Bird Rock, 11 July 2018 (photo by Kate St. John)

Pretty soon we could see the nesting cliffs. The white areas are all gannets.

Seabird nesting cliffs as seen on our walk out to Bird Rock at Cape St. Mary's, Newfoundland, 11 July 2018 (photo by Kate St. John) — Seabird nesting cliffs as seen on our walk out to Bird Rock at Cape St. Mary’s, Newfoundland, 11 July 2018 (photo by Kate St. John)

Near the trail’s end, Bird Rock is in the foreground.

Bird Rock and the cliff behind it are coated with birds, Cape St. Mary's, NL, 11 July 2018 (photo by Kate St. John) — Bird Rock and the cliff behind it are coated with birds, Cape St. Mary’s, NL, 11 July 2018 (photo by Kate St. John)

Here’s what we saw when we got there. This 2011 video below (not my own) captures the sights and sounds of the colony. The only thing you’re missing is the fishy smell of guano. It was filmed when most of the birds were still courting, wagging their heads and touching bills. When we visited last week they were further along. Some chicks had already hatched.

The gannets hunt far and wide for fish to feed their chicks. Just around the corner from Cape St. Mary’s in Placentia Bay there are loads of fish near Saint Bride’s. This YouTube video from 2017 (not my own) shows what I love most about gannets. They dive straight down to the sea!

Gannets galore!

p.s. The white spouts aren’t whales. They’re the splash-back from the gannets’ precision dives.

(first photo from Wikimedia Commons; click on the image to see the original. videos from YouTube. All other photos by Kate St. John.)

Outside My Window

A Blog of Birds & Nature with Kate St. John