'Tis the Season

Whew! What a busy month. Winding down for the Holidays has been a much needed reprieve, but not before lots of photography, birding, and even a little bit of groundbreaking research for wildlife in Arkansas. For starters, the fall color, now long gone in northern Arkansas, was subpar overall this year. We had a fairly wet summer, but after a dry spell, the most recent rains came too little, too late. However, the photographer in me managed to sniff out several SPECTACULAR pockets of color! Right in my hometown of Fayetteville sits one of the greatest getaways in the northwest, Kessler Mountain. This mountain and its ridge-lines boast old growth post and chinquapin oak forest, interspersed with sugar maples of all sizes. Sugar maples, remnants of the last ice age, are the secret to fall color in the Ozarks and always the stars of the show whenever they're present. The sugar maples of Kessler are prize winners and can be seen all the way across town from the proper vantage point. When coupled with such an incredible canopy of ancient oaks, what's not to like? It's good to be humbled by such giants, seeking to remind us of our place on Earth.

Some of those famous sugar maples.

After the inspiration on Kessler Mountain, I chased the fall color east to the Buffalo River in Newton County. A dreamy sunrise left the clouds in full morning splendor around Cave Mountain, one of my favorite locations along the whole river. Rising up from Boxley Valley, this mountain is lined in scenic bluffs, riddled with caves, and thick with the dramatic history of settlers and Civil War skirmishes. The day was peaceful though, despite an ongoing battle; this one not about precious gunpowder stores, but for a massive hog farm in the Buffalo River Watershed.

Cave Mountain, Newton Co., AR

This unobscured view of Cave Mountain, coupled with a walk through beech trees where Steel Creek enters the Buffalo, are two of many reason why the watershed should continue getting the protection it deserves, but that's an argument for another post.

As fall color has dropped off, so has the temperature, meaning winter is almost upon us! For birders, that means a new suite of birds...not to mention now is the time for vagrancy, when rare birds pop up in odd places. As I write, four Townsend's Solitaires have come to spend time on Mt. Magazine in central Arkansas. Through the years many western species have thought this place to be Arkansas' lone Rocky Mountain. Being the highest spot in the state it is hardly comparable to the Rockies, at just 2700'; the birds must see something I don't. While the solitaires are enjoying their elevation, north in Ozark, MO a Calliope Hummingbird graces a birder's home with its presence. Only because I'm so close, and want to see this great life bird, do I take a trip across the state line to see it. Late in the game, I'm the 100th+ person to see the bird that brought visitors all the way from central Texas. The Calliope, a first-year male, should be in Mexico or Central America, nowhere near the chill of southern Missouri. Selfishly, I'm glad it's not. This miracle of a bird, somehow surviving the cold and wind, frequented the feeder often while I was there and allowed close viewing and photos. A stunner to say the least. 

Calliope Hummingbird. North America's smallest.

Sitting for photos after release. What's not to love?

This season, I've been busy preparing for and putting into action my honors thesis. My project, which will encompass two field seasons of research, is basically proving that Northern Saw-whet Owls migrate through and/or winter in northern Arkansas. This northern owl is a bit of a mystery since it's so secretive, but with ranges into the Appalachians, Rockies, and winter movements along the east coast, it has long been thought that the species could be found in between as well. In fact, every southern state that has tried for the birds has gotten them! (This includes Alabama, Georgia, and Missouri) Other states have been slow to catch on, Arkansas included, but not anymore! Season one has involved traveling around northwest Arkansas and setting up mist nets at night. A speaker is then set up with the NSOW call on loop, the nets checked every 45 minutes or so, and the waiting begins. Amazingly, our second night out, we had one bird responding (which is rare in winter) and another that flushed from a cedar. Ecstatic, we waited the next 45...lo-and-behold, we had captured our first saw-whet! Just one, but a step in the right direction, supported by 12 previous records. This individual, the first ever netted and banded in Arkansas, was a top-of-the-chart female. Weather conditions haven't been great since the first capture, coupled with a low movement of saw-whets south this year, but things are looking up weather-wise and I am hopeful for the coming weeks. 

Though she may be as big as they come, saw-whet owls are still tiny.

Amidst all the research and school work, I haven't been out much just for sheer enjoyment lately, but I was able to make a trip down to central Arkansas for the Arkansas Audubon Society's annual fall meeting. The meeting is always a great way to be in good company with the birders and the birds. Not to mention we were staying at a hotspot for one of my favorite birds, the Brown-headed Nuthatch. This tiny pine-lover climbs up and down trees all day searching for food, while squeaking like a dog toy. These nuthatches are only found in southern pine forests of North America, and in Arkansas, just in the central and southern regions. Having lived in two northern corners all my life, I don't get to see them very often. Brown-headed Nuthatches were much more widespread at one time, but pine is highly desired, so after enough years of logging their numbers dropped along with Red-cockaded Woodpeckers and Bachman's Sparrows, both of which are species of concern in Arkansas and share similar habitat as the nuthatch. They seemed to be doing pretty good on the meeting weekend, though!

Brown-headed Nuthatch Hanging in There

It has been a great fall and soon to be an even better winter. Way back in 1863, Henry David Thoreau wrote: "I believe that there is a subtle magnetism in nature, which, if we unconsciously yield to it, will direct us aright." I have found this to be true many times in my adventures. Get out occasionally and enjoy nature!

For more photos, visit my galleries at: www.pbase.com/mpruitt

Or for recents: www.pbase.com/mpruitt/recents

Enjoy,

Mitchell

The Black Mesa: A Birder's Paradise

Most people have probably never heard of the Black Mesa, some birders have never heard of it either, and that's a shame. It can be found in Cimarron County, Oklahoma, north into Colorado and west into New Mexico. The mesa sits at a whopping (for that area) 5,700 feet above sea level and is surrounded on all sides my smaller mesas and buttes rising out of the arid canyonland below. This beautiful area was visited often by famed naturalist George Sutton during the first half of the 20th century. Of it's allure, he wrote: "…it is this element of the unexplained, the unexpected, the unknown, that gives this country so much of its charm." After just one trip, I know what he means. The whole area is a magnet for birds of the high and low Rockies. It's thought that the mesas and buttes are a last frontier for these birds that won't cross the vast low-country to the east. One can see this draw with the high mesa tops, deep canyons, cottonwood arroyos, lonely pinyon pines, and juniper. It's the perfect hybrid between western forest and open cactus country, in its own world entirely.

Black Mesa Country and Cottonwood Arroyos

For my first trip out there, two birder friends and I spent 3 days in the area. We searched for life birds and racked up western species that are virtually nonexistent in Arkansas; all the while enjoying the great scenery and weather. Sunrise day one found us at Black Mesa State Park waiting on the road, hot coffee in hand, for Burrowing Owls to greet the day. As we waited in vain for the owls, a burbling song could be heard about 100 yards from us. A view through the scope showed a Sage Thrasher sitting in a cholla cactus. A lifer across the board and much desired at that! An uncommon resident of the area at best, this was one of many we saw and the only one farther away than 30 feet :-)

Sage Thrasher. Taken later on, but in a cholla none-the-less.

Deeper into the state park, my crew and I decided to take a quick jaunt up a canyon. Within seconds, we were greeted by a loud "chili, chili, chili!" No doubt a Canyon Towhee…X marks lifer number two. This towhee and many others gave us great looks. The sound of cameras snapping in the canyon was deafening as the bird stared at us, all the while a Spotted Towhee moving around below it.

Canyon Towhee

Continuing on, we headed north to the site of Cimarron County's annual Easter Pageant. This passion play setup is nestled in a canyon below a great mesa; the perfect spot for eastern birders on a pilgrimage west. As we birded the road on the way in, I had one of many stop-and-drool moments of the trip. Perched on a dead shrub, flanked by a rock wall, sat one of the three most elusive nemesis birds of my life so far: Ladder-backed Woodpecker. Nearby was another. After viewing and getting photos from close-range I had to do a little dance.

This stunner couldn't have been more obliging if it landed on my head. As for the other two, they were both possibilities on this trip, but remain at large.

Hiking up the side of the mesa at Easter Pageant, we stopped to enjoy a Canyon Towhee. While gawking, we were ambushed by a sneaky Canyon Wren! This bird should get the most cooperative bird award. We watched and took photos for at least 15 minutes as it disappeared into crevices and popped up just feet away. While we played around, a Curve-billed Thrasher materialized nearby. Two lifers just a few feet apart!! As we laughed a Rock Wren began sounding the alarm above us. This drew in a Sage Thrasher and several Rufous-crowned Sparrows. The attention was astounding and had us literally spinning in circles trying to see it all.

Canyon Wren. Possibly my favorite shot of the whole trip.

After pulling ourselves away from the scene, we headed to the top of the mesa. Out of breath already, we lost more at the breathtaking views before us, 360° all around. From the valley, scrub-jays were in deep conversation, from just below us a Mountain Chickadee called and after a playback, it was confirmed that we had Juniper Titmice too. As the titmice (another lifer) worked their way up to the top, we once again found ourselves surrounded by an overwhelming number of birds. Gnatcatchers, Oregon Juncos, a Bewick's Wren, Canyon Towhee, Townsend's Solitaires, and a Chihuahuan Raven "kraak"ing from somewhere below. For most of the show, I was sitting near the edge trying to take in vista and birds at the same time.

Juniper Titmouse

As the birds slowed down, so did the birders. Our last hurrah for the day was some time well spent with a roadrunner. This species is a regular in Arkansas, but great to see where it's much more common. I never get tired of that multicolored head stripe and iridescent feathers. 

Greater Roadrunner

Day two in mesaland found us once again at the state park where we had a Western Screech-Owl at the campground. Try as we might, the bird would not come out of a dense thicket across the creek from us. This would-be lifer went uncounted after the lack of a visual. Before leaving, we also bagged Cassin's Finch, one of the more uncommon vagrants to the area from the Rockies. A flock of 17 plus some thick mule deer made things even more worthwhile. After this quick morning jaunt, we headed about 10 miles north to the real Black Mesa. The smaller mesas and buttes of the day before are put to shame by this hulk. The mesa was an incredible sight, but birds were sparse. We got great looks at Townsend's Solitaire and a Pink-sided Junco, but the day heated up too fast. It never got above 75, but in a vast openness, under harsh sun, with no breeze, it's pretty hot for little critters. Except for snakes apparently. I fully expected that the cold night temperatures had put any herps down for the winter, but that notion was thrown out. As we drove down the road, a snake appeared, laid out straight. We made its day, as it was luckily short enough that straddling it in the car was a life saver. We immediately turned around to find it coiled in the middle of the road. A look through binoculars showed a good-sized Prairie Rattlesnake (Crotalus viridis) coiled with head tucked. As we moved closer for photos (but not too close), it uncoiled to show its face. From a distance we were able to coax it off the road and home free into the scrub. Though cool, seeing that snake ended our desire to go traipsing through the bush. With its size and our distance from medical care, I'm sure it would've done a number.

Prairie Rattluh

Up this same road, we found ourselves in Baca County, Colorado watching Common and Chihuahuan Ravens harass two Golden Eagles at close range. After a little faith and wishing, the eagles flew towards us. They banked and soared overhead, surrounded by a calm, but wary escort of ravens. These majestic creatures were the stars of the day.

Juvenile Golden Eagle

A big rattlesnake and Golden Eagles. I don't believe there's a better greeting from this perfect, rugged country. After our encounters, we opted for shade under massive cottonwoods and one more try at the screech-owl back at the state park. Hours later the owl was still in the same thicket across the same creek; the only one in the area with water I'm sure because it was a finger of the state park lake. Inconveniently, there was a road on our side, but not on the owl's side. To get to the thicket one would have to drive the mile back to the park entrance, cross the creek on a bridge, and walk the mile back down the other side to the thicket. OR….wade across the creek. Leaving my companions to watch the show, I decided to wade the creek. Gear in hand, I crossed about 40 yards downstream from the thicket. The water was deeper than it looked and I was quickly in over my waist. Fortunately it didn't get any deeper and after climbing the bouldery canyon wall I was to the top, headed towards the trees. After thirty minutes of scouring the cottonwoods and willows, eliciting several "toot, toot"s from the darn owl that I could hear but not see, I decided enough was enough. I began walking away and turned around to give the central cottonwood one last glance. As I turned, I caught the glow of a yellow eye peeking around the trunk at me from about 10 feet away. Sneaky sucker! I could've jumped to the moon and back. After watching for a few minutes, I quietly left the area and waded back across. Soaking wet, muddy, and cold. It was all well worth it.

Western Screech-Owl

The final day of our four-day trip took us east towards home. Along the way, we had a prairie dog town scoped out that would be our last shot at Burrowing Owl. After checking every prairie dog town we came across for 3 days, I was ready for a good look at one of the owls. Our target location was Optima NWR, home to Not-a-Lake Optima: the dammed expanse of sand dunes and scrub that never held the water. As we drove in, thick fog covered the refuge, playing on the nerves as we hoped for the best at the p.d. town. One Ferruginous Hawk, several Scaled Quail, and a Merlin later, the fog had burned off to give perfect views of the town. The prairie dogs were busy at work collecting seeds and running around. As we scanned, a lump atop a yucca stalk stopped us in our tracks. There it sat…one Burrowing Owl. We really had come full circle since this was the first bird we looked for after arriving in the Oklahoma panhandle. This marked life bird #9 for the trip. Eight out of ten hopefuls for the panhandle was not bad at all, especially when coupled with the incidental Costa's Hummingbird coming to a feeder near Tulsa. I couldn't have asked for a more magical fall getaway. Our species total for the trip was 97 and included a bit more than just birding the Okie Panhandle. Like I said, we got Costa's Hummingbird in Tulsa, but also spent the better part of a day birding Great Salt Plains NWR in the central part of the state and taking in all of its Sandhill Cranes.

I'm one of those birders who can rejoice in the common things, so you've got to know that a new bird, or even those I see seldom, really gets me excited. Birds are miracles here on earth and I truly believe that one of my reasons for being here is to relay that to our ailing humanity through words and photos. So, good reading!

"…a day is happily spent that shows me any bird that I never 

saw alive before. How then can you with so

much before you, keep out of the woods another minute?"

--Elliot Coues, Key to North American Birds, 1872

For a complete set of photos from the trip, visit: www.pbase.com/mpruitt/recents

Ferruginous Hawk

Peace on the Prairie

Walking through the tall grass, I stop in a large patch of blue sage to close my eyes and listen: Eastern Meadowlarks competing with the soft, yet constant din of grasshoppers, the cool breeze playing through the grass, and a House Wren scolding some distant annoyance. Against the afternoon sun I can picture myself sitting on a horse, one of the first settlers moving west through this wild country in awe of the rolling hills that are a patchwork of colors thanks to goldenrod, sage, and various grasses. That's the magic of the Flint Hills for you. I start again, flushing a Vesper Sparrow along a hillside, as a shrike watches from afar. At the top of the rise I stop to enjoy the purple brilliance of Eryngium leavenworthii…a personal favorite.

Leavenworth's Eryngo (Eryngium leavenworthii)

The Flint Hills were named for their rocky nature, actually limestone and chert, not flint. This particular weekend I was with other birders at the Tall Grass Prairie Preserve in Osage County, Oklahoma, at the south end of this region. The Flint Hills have been used by different people for what seems like forever, as evidenced by a near perfect arrowhead resting on the prairie surface…perfect grays blending in with the soil and other rocks…probably from the Caddo 2,000-3,000 years ago. When white settlers came, the name of the game was grazing land and eventually natural gas and oil; the boom continues today with the methodic thumping of oil wells that can still be heard in many areas on the 40,000 acre preserve. This first afternoon was just a prelude to the next day's main event: 10 hours of birding, photography, botany, and more on the pristine prairie. On my way out for the night, I passed a stand of sunflowers and noticed that each was adorned with its own Red-winged Blackbird. Here, a female caught my eye. Normally seen as dull, this one needed its photo taken.

Red-winged Blackbird

The next morning was cool, but just right for us gear-laden birders. By 8:00, we were at County Road 2809 which leads into the preserve. We stopped just off the highway where a fencerow stand of scrub and cottonwoods creates a mini-oasis for migrants. Down the line, the birds ranged from the yellow to the brown. Wilson's Warbler and Palm Warbler to assorted sparrows. The Palm Warbler (two for the day) is a rare occurrence considering we are at the EXTREME western end of their migration range, and maybe even a little west of that. Among them, the sparrows, many shades of brown: Clay-colored (12), Lincoln's (9), Savanna (1), and Vesper (1). For us western Arkansans, Clay-coloreds are a yearly occurrence, but it's always good to see such a large number.

Clay-colored Sparrow

Beneath two Clay-coloreds sits a Lincoln's. Equally as carefully colored. Sparrows are too overlooked and taken for granted, which is a shame. A closer look can prove them almost as good-looking as any super model bird.

Lincoln's Sparrow

Continuing on to the preserve, you pass through post oak cross timber habitat. The cross timbers, a perfect fading zone between the western prairies and eastern forests, gets its name from the tightly-packed trees, whose intertwined limbs make it impassible in many areas. The oaks were absolutely LOADED with acorns and full of Blue Jays, Red-headed Woodpeckers, and the likes. All acorn eaters, I had never seen so many in one place. Granted the preserve is 40,000 acres, but still! Both the jays and RHWOs were a constant racket in the oaks as they caching the nuts. Many of the jays just pass through on their mass migration out of the northern forests and this was clear from the 100s flying over in small, constant flocks all day. Northern Flickers joined in the movement, starting double takes from the birders as we looked for that flash of red instead of our usual eastern yellow. After two days of hoping, and all yellow-shafted flickers, we got it on the second day. A glimpse of red shot over our heads. I followed it into the trees where I was able to watch it as it flicked its tail…nothing but brilliant red. SCORE!

The Flint Hills at Sunrise

Late September is the perfect time for a trip to the TGPP. You can get the best of both worlds with migrants still moving through and winter residents starting to show up (Think Yellow-billed Cuckoo meets Sharp-shinned Hawk). This weekend, a light south wind had stopped migrants in their paths. Including the exceedingly rare Monarch butterfly. After being at the TGPP, I'm not so sure they're in as steep of a decline as what we thought. Late in the afternoon, we stopped at the top of a ridge that overlooked prairie and post oak barrens for as far as the eye could see. Walking away from the rest of the group, I was drawn ever further into goldenrods and blue sage, nearly every one covered in Monarchs. Eventually out of sight of the car, the ridge came to a point. I followed it back around and below the rim just a little bit, stopping all the way to take in the Monarch miracle. With each puff of wind, the monarchs would rise off the flowers creating clouds, yes, clouds. There were 100s of them in this few acre oasis.

Monarch Butterfly

Catching my breath, I couldn't help but stare. The good news: every patch of flowers on the preserve was a slightly lesser, but similar sight. The bad news: we are not professional mathematicians. Here's what we came up with. Consider that there were 5 monarchs per acre (which is grossly underestimated), then consider that 1/2 of the TGPP had flowers conducive to monarch nectaring (20,000 acres). That would mean that on Saturday, September 27, 2014 the preserve had 100,000 monarchs, and I suspect that number was much more. Blessed was the only word that could come to my mind as I walked away from the scene, still awestruck hours later.

When I'm out on excursions like this, I try to pay attention to everything. I think I do a pretty good job most of the time. As the heat of the day struck and we lunched under huge, ancient bur oaks, I decided to take a walk down the sunny road. Going, a flash across the ground caught my eye…a tiger beetle. These ferocious predators always warrant a photo shoot.

Hairy-necked Tiger Beetle (Cicindela hirticollis)

Clouded Crimson (Schinia gaurae)

On our last day at the prairie, we met up with a PRO botanist for some lessons. At a place like the TGPP, a lot of my mind is on the birds, but I tried to be a good student! During the "lesson" we came across a really cool caterpillar on velvety gaura. Jumping the gun, one might identify it as a Monarch caterpillar, but look closer. Another red flag was that it wasn't on milkweed.

Leaving this magical place was bittersweet, but life must go on. As much as I'd like to, I can't live in a prairie dream-state forever. Luckily, the grand scene of a Northern Harrier gliding silently over the landscape to see us out will tide me over until next time.

Another successful adventure! And I am happy to report that no one got charged by bison, which would be no bueno.

Northern Harrier

For more photos of this exciting trip, visit: http://www.pbase.com/mpruitt/tall_grass_prairie_2014

The Eyebrow: Adventures Into the Rugged

"You might as well build a railroad across the Devil's eyebrow…". That's what a settler told the Frisco Railroad in 1880, regarding a particularly rugged piece of property in eastern Benton County that they were surveying. The name stuck and today, the land is part of Devil's Eyebrow Natural Area, an Arkansas Natural Heritage Commission property; among the most rugged places in the Ozark Mountains. It's places like this that a person has to have a sort of grit or craze about them to travel through…maybe a little of both. This natural area is fairly new, but is already renowned for its rare plants and beautiful scenery. Today was the second time I had the chance to go down into the natural area with a fellow photographer and it's always very rewarding…despite the fact that each time we've spent the first 30 minutes trying to figure out where the trail is! I think I've finally gotten it figured out. The key here is to be away from the trail, but that exact route is top secret.

Common Green Darner (Anax junius)

The trail leaves the field where you park and, for several hundred yards, follows a logging road flat and easy through the woods. After this it begins to gently slope down and quickly, BAM, there goes the road, dropping steep into a narrow valley below. All the way down, this stretch is littered with rocks and fresh asters. The morning sun was shining warm for several dragonflies that cruised the area, looking for breakfast.

At the bottom, the road crosses a creek and winds around the base of a ridge. But for those adventurous at heart, what good is a road? Leaving it, we began following one of the creeks through the area. Creek walking isn't usually easy going, especially when the bottom is slick bedrock like at Devil's Eyebrow. It made perfect habitat for great blue lobelia, though. One of my fall favorites. Their deep violet blooms were covered in tiny dew droplets, winking at us as we passed. The lobelia was very common on our hike; I couldn't complain. We eventually made it to a fork in the creek where one branch took a violent turn into incredibly potholed bedrock. An artifact of thousands of years of water eating away at weaker limestone, no doubt. Using my imagination, I was able to picture the cascades of water the potholes would create if there had been any running.

Continuing on, we were greeted by several hummingbirds sipping from perfect, bright orange jewelweed blooms. A fight ensued as we passed through and they parted to let us go on. Slipping and sliding around another few turns brought us to the holy grail for the day, one of those Devil's Eyebrow rarities botanists speak so highly of. This one in particular was ovate-leaf catchfly, with a feathery and exotic-looking flower. Yet another creation that is as close to perfection as things get here on Earth.

Ovate-leaf Catchfly (Silene ovata)

This plant, and many others, speak highly of "the Eyebrow's" unpolished hills, hollers, and near pristine habitat. The major creeks here end at inlets of the mighty Beaver Lake. One can only imagine what it would have been like farther down had the White River never been dammed, but Northwest Arkansas has to have water, don't they?

It wasn't far past the catchfly that we turned around to head back out. Getting in is the easy part since it's all down hill! Hours later and half way out the sun finally made an appearance in that narrow canyon that made our day. Despite a cool start to the morning, butterflies began to show themselves in the sun; including an Eastern Tailed-Blue that gave us long looks at its upper wings…a rare occurrence any time. These dime-sized butterflies are well worth a closer look.

Rare View: E. Tailed-Blue (Cupido comyntas)

As we hoofed it up the final hill, a Gemmed Satyr graced us with its near presence, and like raccoons with shiny things, the photographers stopped to gawk. Satyrs and close looks don't often go together, so one must take their chances as they come. It may take some inspection on an otherwise brown small flying thing, but you will eventually see where they get their name and it can stand out like the finest silver.

Gemmed Satyr (Cyllopsis gemma)

Another morning and about three miles to the south, I find myself at the base of Whitney Mountain, one of those rare Cerulean Warbler habitats, but for that I'm over a month too late. As the fog keeps rolling through, I'm here to photograph pale jewelweed, not the orange, spotted jewelweed of Devil's Eyebrow. A pretty good patch grows at the base of a bluff near the road, indicative of a damp habitat. Its cornucopia-shaped blooms are completely yellow with fine red spots on the inside. Its namesake are the leaves that have tiny, water-repelling hairs that cause water to bead up and roll right off, but the flowers must be part of the story too.

Pale Jewelweed (Impatiens pallida)

As I pull myself away from this crisp roadside oasis, I feel refreshed in both mind and body. Shutting the car door, I hear what's sure to be the last Hooded Warbler song of the season and my mind wanders north, across several valleys and back to Devil's Eyebrow. The preservation of places like this is vital, especially in an ever-growing Northwest Arkansas. We don't do great in many aspects, but here we aren't doing too bad at all.

Great Blue Lobelia (Lobelia siphilitica)

For more photos from these two trips, visit www.pbase.com/mpruitt/recents

In The Final Days of Summer: Blooms

Many who know me also know that I am not just a birder. It's true that's how it ALL got started, but birding was only the gateway (Only is a strong word, so I should note that birds continue to be my main forte). With birds came photography and with photography came an interest in most things nature, which can be a bit overwhelming at times. For me, I would say that second behind birding (and wildlife photography), falls wildflower photography. A lot can be learned about an ecosystem by the plants that are found there, even more so than the birds in many instances; and when a plant comes with a fancy flower, I'm all over it. Even the simple ones are nice for a change, too.

A fairly simple woodland sunflower oasis. Mt. Magazine State Park, AR.

In Arkansas, the wildflower season kicks off in mid to late March with white trout lilies (E. albidum) ringing in the spring with their immaculately arched petals. Things really get going by mid-April and only get better through May, when the forest floor is a carpet of color. The rush slopes off after that and trickles through the middle of summer. Don't get me wrong, summer is when you can see some of Arkansas' most impressive blooms, but it's not quite as hot-and-heavy as it was weeks earlier. By the middle of August through much of September, the flowers pick up once more; just in time to say goodbye before the cold hits. To know the ins-and-outs of wildflowers, one must understand that it's all relative. Sometimes winter runs a little over and things are late, some years it's just the opposite. Spring 2014 was one of the years where things were behind…almost two weeks, but then we get one of those baking summers that puts things back in their proper order. And back in order they are. As I write, all those umpteen different species of goldenrods are blooming or getting ready to. Right on schedule. (As is the infamous ragweed, *cough, cough*).

Tall Green Milkweed (Asclepias hirtella)

Hmm. Favorites of the season, you ask? Well, I'll start with the milkweeds, always a favorite group of mine. (The new atlas to Arkansas' vascular plants lists 16 species of milkweeds). New to me this year, and getting an easy one out of the way, is tall green milkweed. I've never met a milkweed I didn't like and this one standing at nearly 4' tall, with its green blooms and maroon accents, is no exception.




From there, I'll go to another favorite: northern swamp milkweed. This species is listed at an S2 status for the state (meaning it is rare) and is tracked by the Arkansas Natural Heritage Commission. A few counties in northern Arkansas mark part of the southern range limit for this striking plant. In NW Arkansas it can be found in several places ranging from restored prairies and fallow fields that once were prairies, to unmowed ditches.

N. Swamp Milkweed (Asclepias incarnata)

As for more season favorites, I'll have to delve into orchids now. Orchids aren't just late summer bloomers, there's always some species to be found throughout spring, summer, and fall. Orchids have a special place in my world because, well, I like rare things in nature and there aren't many orchids in Arkansas to be considered common. A 1993 book by Carl Slaughter documents about 40 species of orchids in the state. Most can be found somewhere today, one was based on a specimen collected in the late 19th century and hasn't been seen since, and yet another has one small population left. The book doesn't list locations by any means and this information is hard to get from those who do know. Wildflowers aren't like birds, they can't fly off if someone comes for them. Many of our wildflowers, orchids especially, are subject to poaching which is unfortunate. It's what makes many of them so rare; not to mention very specific habitat requirements in some instances. So needless to say, tight lips are common when dealing with certain wildflowers. This also means that much of the good stuff is in the middle of NOWHERE, down the road to NOWHERE, near NOWHERE, far form EVERYWHERE.  Earlier in August, I was fortunate to get to see one of our least common orchids, the purple fringeless orchid. Now THIS is one to drool over and another S2 with the ANHC. My plant sat alone in the midst of bottomland hardwood forest in northeast Arkansas. It was hot and humid going, but well worth it in the end; even if it was for just a single plant.

Purple Fringeless Orchid (Platanthera peramoena)

Yet another stunner, that was high on my list of desirables this year was the yellow fringed orchid. Words cannot even describe this plant and the fact that there were over 25 individuals at the location. Even after just one I already had a crazed smile on my face, my fearless guide can attest to that. To set the scene, these 25 were found in open woods along a small creek that is associated with a large seep…perfect habitat. Our state's orchids vary greatly in size and stature and this must be one of the tallest. Some plants stood at nearly three feet tall, with heads chock-full of blooms that are really orange rather than yellow. This was a three mile round-trip plant and I'd be tempted to do it every day if I lived closer to 'em!

Yellow-fringed Orchid (Platanthera ciliaris)

Orchids can be hard to catch blooming. You almost have to know when a certain population has bloomed in years past. As a general rule (unless winter runs over in the spring) orchids bloom at on or around the same date every year. It's about as close to clockwork as Mother Nature gets. Some species with ascending blooms, like many of the Platanthera genus, will have a few day period where all the blooms are opening, working their way up the stalk. Then there may be one day of perfection, where all the blooms are open and looking good, though you can't be too picky or you'll miss it altogether!

Three Birds Orchid (Triphora trianthophora)

Some species, however, are one-day wonders or less in several instances. One of these one-day wonders is the three birds orchid. This was another species high up on my list late this summer and an even harder one to catch in bloom. At a maximum of 6" tall, this tiny plant sports an even tinier flower; one that could be hidden behind a penny. The blooms are in tip-top photographic state for no more than a day. The particular population I visited had 15 plants and we were too late for all but three perfect blooms. The word 'miracle' comes to mind when I see this flower. How can something so small be so perfect?

A favorite orchid genus of mine is Spiranthes. Their flowers are arranged in a spiral up the stalk, an incredible feat in itself, and can be found throughout the growing season in Arkansas. There are 11 species in the state, several of which are late summer bloomers, all of which look nearly identical. On the same trip as the yellow fringed orchid, a nice population of Spiranthes tuberosa was found…double whammy! This guy has no leaves at bloom time, no color to the inside of the bloom, and is not fragrant. All of these qualities lead to it's identification.

Little Ladies'-Tresses Orchid (Spiranthes tuberosa)

Orchids are mysterious and complex, which is what draws me to them. I've made it seem like there can be some amount of certainty sometimes, but I'll go ahead and debunk that idea. Though some species may bloom near the same time every year, others may bloom one season and then be done for years. They're one of life's great mysteries and only God knows how to predict these secret and most perfect plants. Again, mystery in nature is what I like to see. The best things don't come easy and I wouldn't call any time you have to go on an extended hike during an Arkansas August easy. It keeps things spicy and I like spicy.

In the Final Days of Summer: Birds

It seems like forever since I've written anything for posting, but it sure has been busy! The final days of summer have been a "damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead" kind of thing for me, with school starting back, birding trips, family trips, and more on my plate than I should probably have, but I love every bit of it. My August wrapped up with several good trips squeezed into a week's time before school started. Before the bird talk starts, here's a shot from a hiking trip during this time period. Several friends and I clocked nearly 15 miles along the Buffalo River in Newton County, AR.

Early morning along the Buffalo at Steel Creek Campground.

Another trip was across state to Bald Knob National Wildlife Refuge. A funny name, I know, but don't be too quick to laugh! This refuge sits in eastern White County, AR and has a special place in every birder's heart here…especially if you're into shorebirds and waders.

An eastern Arkansan by birth, but now situated in the hilly northwest, I don't get to the refuge near as much as I used to. However, a special trip was made this year by several northwestern buddies and I. They had never been to the refuge. To be at Bald Knob for the day's prime time, we had to leave our cooler northwest during the early hour of 4:00am. It was rough, but we trooped along and 4 hours later made it to the refuge that has made birding history several times over in the state. As the morning progressed, so did the heat (I believe it was 101° when we left that afternoon). We, along with many other birders, stuck it out for the better part of the day. Our group of three counted 39 species, including 17 species of shorebird. That's pretty good considering we weren't on either the taiga or the coast and it was only late August. Still, those hundreds of individual birds we saw that day weren't anything like the thousands the refuge is known for producing on a REALLY good day. Matter of fact, as I write this, there are 4 Roseate Spoonbills, 2 Hudsonian Godwits, and a Piping Plover sitting among hundreds more at the refuge. It's funny how standards can change when you live in different parts of such a diverse state as Arkansas. In the northwest, even these hundreds of birds (that were few for BKNWR) would be darn near impossible…there's just no habitat for it!

Among the best birds were Black-bellied Plover, Western Sandpiper, Stilt Sandpiper, and both Long-billed and Short-billed Dowitchers. Unfortunately the BBPL was WAY out on one of the mudflats so no photos of this striking and uncommon fall migrant. Many more birds were at close range, though. Here are a few to tickle your fancy: 

Western Sandpiper (Calidris mauri)

Compare the Western to its doppelgänger cousin, the Semipalmated Sandpiper below. At first glance, they're the same bird, but wait…look closer. Check out the difference in the bills! It really is striking. The Western has that long, thick-based, decurved bill, while the Semipalmated has one that is comparatively shorter and stubbier. That wasn't so hard, right?

Semipalmated Sandpiper (Calidris pusilla)

You wouldn't know it from this photo, but the Semipalmated Sandpiper is named for the partial webbing it has between the toes. Moving on.

Short-billed Dowitcher (Limnodromus griseus)

To many birders, shorebirds are just downright intimidating, but over time one learns to cope; not just cope, but master. Hear that? Shorebirds don't scare me. Gulls, on the other hand, give me chills.

Spotted Sandpiper (Actitis macularia). A not-so-spotted juvenile.

Moving forward a day, I'm back in Northwest Arkansas and out with a birder from the central part of the state. Our goal for the morning was to find him a Swainson's Hawk for his AR list. This was a species I saw in Benton County way back in 2011 during my state big year, but I hadn't seen one since. I'm not around for much of the breeding season in their extremely limited range in the state and I figured we'd be lucky to see one at all. We sat at a podunk Benton County crossroads for half an hour, scanning the treeline in all directions for the striking raptor with no luck. Vultures upon vultures. Patience running thin, the decision was made to drive south from the intersection. Rounding a line of trees, we saw a buteo sitting in a snag. A look in the scope showed its backside, but it was a promising backside! It looked over its shoulder just long enough for us to see a possible white throat. It was a juvenile, but almost surely a Swainson's. Jumping back into the car and speeding off, we headed west on a dirt road to State Line Road; of Oklahoma, that is.

We stopped about 100 yards short of where we thought the snag was and walked…more like stalked…or crawled. Either way, we made it to the bird and I'll be darned if it wasn't on the lucky Arkansas side of the road! Both being photographers, we took photos. Eventually it decided it was done playing and took off to make several low passes over us and the road, officially making it an Arkhoma Swainson's Hawk.

Swainson's Hawk (Buteo swainsoni)

As a birder and a Christian, here at the eastern frontier of a Swainson's Hawk's range, I can't help but know that our creator has a hand in all I see. Especially out in nature, it's back to the basics. Do we as birders sometimes have to bust our butts (literally and figuratively) to find something we're looking for? The answer would be a resounding yes, but I suppose it's all in the plan. This Swainson's was an easy bag compared to some, but if we saw all the awesome critters of the Earth easily, all at once, what fun would be left for later? I like for things to stay spicy.

Swainson's Hawk.

Going back to the ID of this bird, pay particular attention to the "hooded" appearance that will be even more obvious in an adult. As with the bird in flight, note the bicolored wings; a dead giveaway.

Fall migration is ramping up here in the Natural State. Birds like this Swainson's Hawk are headed for warmer climes, though with our temperatures they may as well stay a spell longer. The Scissor-tailed Flycatchers (and their Stubby-tailed juveniles), among others, have been spotted facing the setting sun. Are they simply taking in the majesty or gathering all that mind-boggling navigation info to shove off sometime in the night? I vote the latter. One might ask, is it really time for them to go? Even just a few rungs down the latitude ladder? The happy House Wren seems to think so. They must've read the almanac.

House Wren, Woolsey Wet Prairie, Fayetteville, AR

Late Summer Birding

As summer has continued here in Arkansas, it's stayed cool. What's been a tree-frying upper 90s and 100s the past few summers has taken a turn for the better this year, with highs just in the mid-80s and low 90s. It's been pleasant to say the least. The birds have really picked up late this summer, an uncommon occurrence and probably attributed to several cold fronts in from the north; my hiking has picked up too. Sometimes I'm a little nature crazy, but even I tend to stray from that activity during the heat and humidity of an Arkansas summer. But back to the birds.

For starters, due to several cold fronts in late July, migration in some bird groups seems to have started earlier than usual. The first point in that direction was a 2nd cycle California Gull that showed up on Lake Dardanelle around July 23. For those who know the ins-and-outs of birding in Arkansas, you know that Lake Dardanelle is a rare gull magnet in the winter, but not so much the summer. On the 27th, I went in search of the Cali Gull. I didn't have any luck and there were no other birds on the lake, aside from a pair of Osprey. On the 28th, I tried for the gull again after one of the cold fronts was well on its way. Not only was the California Gull present this time, but so were 4 Ring-billed Gulls, one Herring Gull, and a plethora of terns; all fresh in from up north. ALMOST unheard of for late July, especially the gulls. As a note, the California Gull is still present as I write this on August 11th.

The next weekend, I again found myself in Logan County, this time with friends (and birders) at Mt. Magazine State Park. We hiked the North Rim and Signal Hill Trails, out and back, for a total of about 5 miles. Our only real target for the day was to get out, enjoy the cool weather, and see whatever there was to see. We ended the day with 16 species of birds, not a great count, but considering that things had started to get quiet now that breeding is done, I thought we did pretty well. No spectacular birds, but we really enjoyed the leather flower lining the trail in several spots. Some of the tough, pink flowers were still around; most had turned into the feathery seed heads.

Leather Flower (Clematis sp.)

We couldn't leave without checking the hang-glide launch and south rim for Rufous-crowned Sparrows. These sparrows have been calling the cliffs of Mt. Magazine home since at least the early 1980s. Last winter was a rough one, though, and only one has been seen since. Unfortunately, August 3rd was no exception to their disappearance. From Magazine, I started the four-hour drive home.

Crab Spider with Breakfast, Mt. Magazine SP

From Magazine, I started the four-hour drive home. With an early start to fall migration on my mind, I couldn't help but stop at Bald Knob NWR on the way past. It's not far off the interstate and is a shorebird magnet in the spring and fall. There was only one field with appropriate mud for shorebirds and it didn't disappoint. Almost immediately I had Semipalmated Plovers, Buff-breastd Sandpiper, Stilt Sandpipers, and a surprise fresh off the tundra: a Ruddy Turnstone. The Ruddy Turnstone is a bird I've seen a lot of along the Gulf Coast, but never in Arkansas. It's a rare migrant and one that I've chased several times without success. This individual was still in full breeding plumage and couldn't have made me happier! Even in the afternoon heat shimmers, it's stark black, white, and ruddy coloration stood out.

Congregation of Black-necked Stilts, Bald Knob NWR 

What a week! The California Gull and Ruddy Turnstone marked my 323rd and 324th species for Arkansas. California Gull was also life bird number 365 for North America.

As fall migration really gets going, I'll be off again!