RIP Pink Fairy

 One more look back at 2021...

On November 27th, Benjamin Leigh Douglas found an immature Ross's Gull at the confluence of the Mississippi and St. Croix Rivers along the Minnesota and Wisconsin border. 

Ross's Gull was the last of the holy grail North American bird species I wanted to see. It graces the back cover of America's 100 Most Wanted Bird Birds book I was given many years ago in my infancy of birding. Its fairy-like pink plumage and delicate features are tantalizing to many a birder. 

Opportunities to chase this species have come and gone on past occasions. The Red Rock Reservoir, Iowa bird in 2013 involved a hefty 10-hour round trip drive for a very distant look. I decided I would pass. 

But when the Ross's was found this past fall, it presented an opportunity for face-melting views as well as a shot at a world and Wisconsin state lifer. The travel was still a dandy at eight hours round trip. My fatigue stood as a barrier. However, I could not resist the exuberance I heard in the voices of my friends Tom and Aaron when they talked about seeing this bird. And then there was this familiar message from Tom, "You going tomorrow? Do it!!"

So I did. It was every bit as magical as I thought it would be. I first viewed it distantly from the Minnesota side where it was reported to be most reliable. My plan was see it first no matter what state it was in, then focus on the tic for Wisconsin. Shortly after I arrived in Minnesota, it was apparent it was seemingly favoring the Wisconsin side. Therefore, I quickly headed over to Prescott, Wisconsin to get better views. However, just as I arrived, I was told the Ross's had flown from the river...No worries as it was quickly refound close to where I parked, up the riverbank behind Geister Ink. 

Within minutes though, it left for Minnesota. I was definitely not going to play the game of driving back and forth across the river trying to view the bird. Instead, I staked out a spot on the Wisconsin side of the river waiting its return. 

Patience rewarded me. After two plus hours of watching the bird from afar, I was treated to breath-taking views as the bird swam toward me. 

Bliss. Pure gold. Dainty, frail, blush, beautiful...

Unfortunately, not unlike my last lifer arctic gull, an Ivory Gull at Canal Park in Duluth, Minnesota, this bird's health was compromised. Even more so than I suspected...

Ivory Gull, Canal Park, Duluth, St. Louis Co, MN 5Jan2016

Subtle behaviors hinted at compromise during the time I spent with the bird (the parking lot landing was a clue). I hoped I was wrong in my concern. But by the time I reached home that evening, word on "the socials" was that those who had followed this bird for multiple days believed its behavior had changed for the worse. By the following morning, reports of the bird appearing dead or near dead had surfaced and a hatched rescue plan spread across the birding community. 

Revive it? I would like to see what gull CPR looks like. 

Shortly after, a firsthand report confirmed the bird expired in transit to wildlife rehabilitation.

I instantly felt moral conflict in rejoicing at seeing this bird. Is it morally just to celebrate around a suffering creature that traveled far from its range to meet its demise?

Guilt and regret overshadowed my jubilance of the prior day...Another one bites the dust...

But the more I have reflected on this experience and the near certain death for most vagrant arctic gulls who travel afar to perish sometimes most obviously (the face-melting ones always do), other times more obscurely, the less ashamed I feel. Though these experiences feel utterly bittersweet, what better way to honor these creatures than with a glorious swan song that celebrates their existence and perhaps even sparks interest in birds and bird conservation in those less woke to the grandeur of Nature? 

I will close with this sentiment posted to the Minnesota Ornithological Union's listserv.

For those thinking about the recently deceased Ross’s Gull, I offer the following excerpt from “A Year on the Wing: Four Seasons in a Life with Birds” by Tim Dee, describing a vagrant in Europe:
The yellow-browed warbler I saw … had made a mistake, and it is probable that no amount of nurture on Fair Isle could truly rescue it. Vagrancy is a death sentence. Almost all of the rarities that arrive on the island (and almost all vagrants anywhere) will have the same fate. They are wonderful treasures from far away that we cannot keep and cannot save. There is very little evidence that vagrant birds reorient themselves and correct their journeys. It seems likely that the yellow-browed warbler, having gone southwest where it should have gone southeast, would continue this aberrant direction and fly on west out over an ocean that has no refuges, no green skirts, for thousands of miles. That would be the end of it. It would soon be homeless. I was watching a lost child at death’s door.
Perhaps somewhat morbid but sadly true. On the flip side, vagrancy is a naturally occurring pattern that sometimes has different results. Think of Cattle Egrets…
Good birding,
Andy Forbes, Dakota Co.

Rest in peace sweet pink fairy. You were a most delightful finale to 2021. 

Crushing into Winter

And just like we have arrived at November. Winter is just around the corner. The snowbirds continue to enter Wisconsin and I have already crushed hard on my favorite winter bird, the Northern Shrike.

Northern Shrike, Governor Nelson State Park, Dane Co, WI 29Oct2018 

If ever there was a bird that could perch upon my soul-less soul this would be it. Not even a sleepy Northern Saw-whet or Boreal Owl can elevate my spirit out of winter's dismal chill like a Northern Shrike can. Afterall, for the most part owls just sleep whereas the Northern Shrike flies buoyantly perch to perch, hunting the landscape. And February through early March hold the promise and hope of hearing one sing again.

Northern Shrike, Governor Nelson State Park, Dane Co, 29Oct2018

During the third week of October, the Northern Shrikes arrived in tandem with one of their prey, American Tree Sparrows. Around this same time, most of the remaining Ruby-throated Hummingbirds left the state for warmer climes. My last Ruby-throated departed my yard the morning of October 23rd.

The last of my Ruby-throated Hummingbirds, Bittersweet home, Dane Co, 19Oct2018

I feel utterly spoiled to have already observed a Northern Shrike at Governor Nelson State Park on multiple occasions during the past week. I have also seen one at the west end of Dorn Creek Wildlife Area just a little over a mile away. I tend to think these shrikes are one in the same. Certainly last year I assumed the bird I encountered at the eastmost end of Dorn Creek was the same shrike as the one present across the highway at Governor Nelson. However, the other day after observing one at the west end of Dorn Creek, within 10 minutes of my sighting, my friend Dale messaged he had a shrike over a mile away at Governor Nelson State Park. Same bird? Two birds? Tough to say.

Governor Nelson State Park, Dane Co, 29Oct2018

Governor Nelson State Park, located on the west short of Lake Mendota, was good to me during October. After not having added a year patch bird since late May, I finally added five more in October... and NONE were sparrows! No Nelson's. No Le Conte's. No Harris's. The five new species? Drum roll...White-winged Scoter, Black Scoter, Long-tailed Duck, American White Pelican and Surf Scoter. Yeah, I know, American White Pelican, wtf? I should have seen a migrating flock in the spring. For whatever reason I did not and pelican became a patch nemesis that I had forgotten about until I spied a lone bird on one of my many trips to Governor Nelson.

Worst American White Pelican ever, Governor Nelson State Park, Dane Co, WI 30Oct2018

Where are the scoter and Long-tailed Duck photos you ask? They are even worse than the above pelican photo...

Full moon, Governor Nelson State Park, Dane Co, WI 24Oct2018

I've been spending many a late afternoon and early evening watching waterbirds and some spectacular moon rises and sunsets at Governor Nelson. The evenings leading up to and including the full moon on October 24th were breathtaking to witness. That enormous glowing orb cast in shades of sunset orange as it breached the the visible sky was something to behold. No photo I captured even comes close to accurately rendering Nature's perfection and grace. I pretty much floundered in my digiscoping efforts above leaving me to wonder, is it my camera, my vision or both?

Full moon sitting in a barren tree, Governor Nelson SP, Dane Co, WI 24Oct2018

Is this natural? Hell no!

This glowing blue-green sludge atop the water was a common sight as I birded around the northern end of Lake Mendota last Sunday. The worst of it was at the beach at Governor Nelson State Park. The high winds on Sunday moved this nasty stew of chemicals toward the western shore. It wreaked of the blue chemical my dad put in our camper toilet back in the 70s. I suspect that's precisely what it was, some type of sewer treatment stew. Though the water clarity has improved since Sunday, I noticed water quality signs posted at the beach today warning of E. Coli. It's only how many days later and these signs are finally posted? Good thing it's not really swimming weather in Wisconsin. Though who in their right mind would ever climb into such disgust? Is it the result of the August floods? Whatever the case might be, the condition of the water is disheartening.

Back to more pleasant topics, like the hike I took today. The birds were few, the wind calm. Most of the leaves have fallen from the trees leaving a void where their rustle used to be. I was left with the deafening silence of my thoughts and a muted landscape of majestic oaks, rock outcroppings and an occasional splash of color to ignite my vision.

Bittersweet, Secret location, Dane Co, 2November2018

I mused about the secret life of trees, the beautiful fretwork-like patterns of intercrown spacing and the seemingly lack thereof in Wisconsin trees. Wisconsin trees seem to have no boundaries. I harnessed the zen of the moment. I controlled my impulse to admonish the single off leash dog owner I encountered. I let it go for today. The aggravation wasn't worth it.