Fall arrives when the rough-legs do
Stephen L. Lindsay Special to Handle ExtraOut of all the seasons, I have always loved fall the most. Certainly from various perspectives other seasons are more exciting and each season has its advantages.
In winter, my passion is skiing - not to say that I haven't been observed on the lift pulling out my binoculars to enjoy a Clark's nutcracker in more detail, or trying to confirm a distant flock of pine grosbeaks (yes, my binoculars are always close at hand). And I've been off the road and stuck in a snow bank more than once trying to get to a birding area better left alone in that weather.
From a birding standpoint, you can't beat the spring for activity and diversity. Birds are arriving and passing through. They are setting up territories and building nests. There is song and color that has been sorely missed throughout the bleak winter. There are too many places to go, too many birds to see and not enough time to catch it all. Actually, it can be downright overwhelming.
Summer is a relatively quiet time for birding, but is filled with so many other varied activities, vacations, camping trips, boating - the list goes on and on. And again, of course, they all include binoculars.
In the fall things are slowing down. Most of the colorful birds have left, headed south to where food will be abundant and temperatures will be comfortable, and there is little bird noise to be heard.
There is the scolding chatter of territorial red squirrels preparing their caches of seeds and mushrooms for the winter, and there is the dazzling white of the huge swans that are passing through in large numbers.
In the fall, from the birding standpoint, we could even feel that we are losing out. Our nesting birds are gone. We do have the shorebirds and the waterfowl moving through for awhile, but for the most part we have been birdie-abandoned.
But fall can also be seen as a great time of arrival, and certainly a time of new birding challenges. In our area, there are more than a dozen species of birds that we can see only in the fall and winter. Some of these species are vagrants (species not usually expected in our area, but found occasionally) such as the swamp sparrow and Harris's sparrow.
There is another group of winter species that is usually here, but these birds can be hard to find. These include snowy owls, gyrfalcons, Bohemian waxwings, American tree sparrows, white- throated sparrows, Lapland longspurs, and gray-crowned rosy-finches.
And then there are those species that are here every year and can be seen without too much difficulty when searched for in the appropriate areas. This list includes several of my favorite species. In particular there is the northern shrike, that amazing songbird and predator that impales its prey on thorns and barbed wire.
There is that incredible little falcon, the merlin, whose speed and stealth strikes fear into winter sparrow and starling flocks and gets the blood pumping in many a cold winter birder lucky enough to witness the fast and furious moments of a hunt.
There are the large, nervous flocks of snow buntings that blend so well into the wind-swept, open fields. Often you are upon a flock, and it is flying before you realize that it is there. But when you do get a close look, what beauty in the black, the rust, and, of course, the white of these ground sparrows.
But the most special of them all, the bird I watch for in late October to let me know that fall is fully developed and hard winter cannot be far away, is the rough-legged hawk. To be able to find and watch this bird again is one of the main reasons I enjoy the fall.
Throughout the rest of the year, at least in Spokane and Kootenai counties, if one sees a hawk soaring, or a hawk perched atop a power pole, it must be a red-tailed hawk. But in late fall and throughout the winter, this domain is shared by the beautiful and graceful rough- legged hawk.
Up close, the rough-leg's beauty is in the black on white that streaks and bands its head, breast, wings and tail. And the pattern of these feathery streaks and bands makes it relatively easy to distinguish males from females unlike most other hawk species.
These thick and fluffy feathers cover its legs to its toes (thus its name), and give a perched bird an almost owl-like, no-neck appearance. They also insulate against the cold better than in other hawks.
On the wing, the rough-leg is grace in motion. Effortlessly, at least to my notion of flight, they soar over barren fields, open prairies and low marshes. Seemingly on no particular mission, they are searching for their one and only prey for this time of year, the voles that scurry between tufts of grass exposed only, much of the time, by the vagaries and drifts of wind-blown snow.
And then, most remarkably considering its size, the rough-legged hawk, upon spying something suspicious, will arrest its glide and will hover, kestrel-like, over a spot, before continuing on. On occasion, when luck allows, the predator will drop like a rock to the ground, feet first, hoping to nab the clueless mouse. When successful, the rough-leg will consume its meal on the ground, and then resume the hunt.
Rough-legged hawks are remarkable in other ways as well. They spend their summer season in the high arctic, nesting on cliffs as do the peregrine falcons and the gyrfalcons, or nesting on the ground when cliffs are in short supply.
There they feed almost exclusively on lemmings and thus are prone to up and down population cycles, similar to the snowy owl and arctic fox, as the lemming populations rise and crash. Thus in some years there are lots of rough-legs, and in other years fewer are produced.
In our area, however, we seldom detect these fluctuations. In years of abundance, wintering rough-legs are found in most of the lower United States, except in the southeast. In crash years, they may be absent from the coastal areas and the more southern areas. But year after year, they are here by late fall at least.
So, as with every October, this year I again began my search for the first rough-leg of the season on the Rathdrum Prairie. But they were late. Just as with our first good freeze, they were late. Hunting must have been good on their south-bound trip through Canada.
So, just as my fall this year was late, so was my first rough- legged hawk - it was only days shy of November. But that is as it always is. You won't have rough-legged hawks until fall, and it really isn't fall until the rough-legged hawks have returned.
This sidebar appeared with the story:
BIRDING Q&A
My question is about the openings on birdhouses.
I've heard that different sized openings are preferred by different species of birds. Do you have some information on that? There are a lot of fancy birdhouses out there these days, but I'm wondering what makes them attractive to the birds?
Thanks, Dave
Thanks for the question. Most species of birds that will use bird nests are cavity nesters, so size of hole in the wild is probably not as important as overall security of the location of the cavity. These days one of the biggest threats to nest box species is competition for nest sites from European starlings. This introduced species has taken over natural cavities and nest boxes wherever they are found. Thus the best advice is to make the hole too small for a starling to enter. Generally a round hole smaller than 1.6 inches is best. Good nest box construction takes into account other aspects, too. A good source for discussion of this topic and for actual nest box plans may be found at www.nabluebirdsociety.org/ plans.htm .
Hope this helps. By the way, be sure to clean out used nest boxes before the birds return to them next spring.
Where do you see tree sparrows in winter?
Patrick Karle
Thank you for your e-mail. What an interesting history and perspective.
There are indeed real sparrow treasures out there to be found.
I am not sure what the earliest records are for shrikes in our area, but in North Idaho I often see them by early November.
Tree sparrows in our area are spotty. In the farming areas of Lincoln and Adams Counties they may be encountered in the brambles around old farm buildings. I have seen them mixed in with House Sparrows in these areas.
Otherwise, I have found them in both Idaho and Washington in brushy areas along old fence rows. Last year, the eastern-most part of the old Sunset Highway between Reardan and Davenport, Wash., was a reliable spot.
Good luck!
Mysterious sparrow - I just hang up feeders, summer and winter, and enjoy watching my back yard full of birds. Sometimes I would like to know what kind they are but fun to watch regardless. Any bird pictures I have seen don't look like the actual bird that it leaves more confusion than when you started!
When getting started in bird identification, it can truly be a confusing and even frustrating process. There are well over 250 bird species that may be seen in our area, and many look very much alike. But with time and patience, one learns to sort them through. This is the part of birding that becomes so addictive! I would recommend either the National Geographic or the Peterson field guides as an excellent place to start.
Copyright 2003 Cowles Publishing Company
Provided by ProQuest Information and Learning Company. All rights Reserved.