29 January 2018 - No snow, lots of frost

Our snow-less winter continues. But in my travels up north, there are places where the fog settles in and freezes, creating a crystalline fairy tale setting. It can be blindingly beautiful when the sun hits it, then it melts very quickly.  In this case, there hadn't been any sun for quite some time. Here are some photos from my last foggy adventure. It often looks like snow covered branches, but it is ice crystals covering everything the fog touches.  The world was gray and white. 

Look closely at the magpie below and you can see he has frost on his whiskers at the base of the bill. 

Everything in this pasture is coated with a layer of hoar frost, even the horses. 

Left the foggy Cache Valley behind and headed west to the playas of West Weber. Cold, but at least the sun was out. This is basically a huge expanse of, well, pretty much nothing, where I was attempting the birding equivalent of Where's Waldo.

The sparse vegetation is about 4 inches high and mostly made up of pickleweed. This area attracts hundreds of horned larks in the winter who feed on the seeds. The Where's Waldo part is that sometimes amongst the many larks you can find a Lapland Longspur or even better, a McCown's Longspur. First, you slog at least a mile or more out unto the gooey, sticky playa while carrying a scope over your shoulder.  

Any sign of movement in the weeds, and you set up your scope and scan the birds for one that is different. Yep! Some kinds of fun are a bit on the odd side. 

I suppose you are wondering what this has to do with frost. Well, if there is frost or a bit of snow, the birds are a lot easier to spot. They might sit a little higher in the pickleweed and the contrast is better. 

Several hours later after looking at hundreds of birds, we found a couple that were different. 

Here's our Waldo's for the day:
The Lapland Longspur

And the even rarer McCown's Longpur. 

Perseverance pays off! 

One last thing about the little bit of snow on the playa:  bird angels!  Not sure if this pattern is from a take off or a landing, but the feather imprints are wonderful. 

19 January 2018 -- Brrr-ding

What a bizarre winter we have had so far. November was the hottest on record. Little to no snow in December. I have used my snow blower once. The snow pack in the hills is the lowest it has been since 1944.  The reservoirs are so low it is scary. So far in January we've had many days with highs in the low fifties. Today we hit 61, although it is accompanied by strong winds as a front rolls in with a chance of snow starting  tonight, but who knows if it will really hit? 

Normally, looking for birds in January is a cold proposition with many layers of clothes involved. While some days have been chilly because of the wind, if you can stand in the sun it's been pretty darned pleasant. 

For me, January means waterfowl. Ducks, geese and swans. It also means gulls. But since it has been unseasonably warm, the lakes are not freezing so the birds are not concentrated in small areas of open water.  It is odd not finding birds where you would expect...takes more looking. 

I have come to appreciate ducks. The variety of plumage, especially now with all the fresh breeding plumage makes them a pleasure to see. 

Wood Duck

Redhead

Pair of Barrow's Goldeneye

Common Goldeneye

Canvasback

Northern Pintail

Bufflehead

Hooded Merganser

And there are so many more. 

Geese. If you start scanning the huge numbers of Canada geese, often there are some surprises you can find hidden in the flocks. 

Snow Goose

Greater White-fronted Goose.  Considering he is only half the size of a Canada goose, it is interesting he is called a Greater. Above is an adult, below a juvenile. 

Cackling Goose. This is the little goose in front of the Canada. It looks like a miniature Canada.

Swans. So far this month I have seen Tundra, Trumpeter and Mute Swans.  Here are some Tundras:

Mute swans

Trumpeter in back, mute in front. A good look at the differences in the head and beak shapes.

All in all, you can see there is a lot to look out, even in January, when many people would not expect to see birds.