A Hognose Snake by the Side of the Road

Broad-winged Hawk Kettling Over Maxville

Spring visited the Lower Chippewa River Valley today.  Not a cloud in the sky.  Temps in the 60s.   I hopped in the Prius and headed out to see who's out - before spring goes into hiding again tomorrow.

And what a day it was!

Barn Swallows on Kings Highway.  Hawks kettling over the coulees - with surprisingly good looks at Broad-wings.   The midge emergence is over.  Only a few Yellow-rumps flitting around in the trees, hawking insects in the popping buds.  The first warbler wave has moved on.

Butterflies were out and flitting on Rustic Road 107.  Very flighty - difficult to get close enough for an identification.  Nearly impossible to get a good photo.

"Spring" Spring Azure

Mustard White

Gray Comma

I pulled over to take a photo of an orange butterfly and as I walked in front of my Prius, I discovered this big brown snake sunning itself in the grass.

Hognose Snake

I didn't recognize it right away, so I carefully moved in closer to take some photos.  As I did, the snake made like a cobra!  I kid you not.  Right in front of me.  Out came the cowl, then an audible "hissss" as the snake lifted its head off the ground and flicked its tongue out.

Eastern Hognose Snake

Eastern Hognose Snake

Eastern Hognose Snake

Eastern Hognose Snake

Eastern Hognose Snake

Eastern Hognose Snake

Eastern Hognose Snake

There shouldn't be any cobras in Wisconsin, and this snake had round eyes.   I knew it wasn't venomous.   But what is it?  

The "frightening" display and a stubby snout are all the clues I needed.  It's an Eastern Hognose also known as a "puff adder."   If the cobra routine doesn't scare you off, the Hognose might try its "roll over and play dead" routine.  This one didn't - it was all huff and puff.  

And then it took off and disappeared in the prairie grasses.  

Awesome!

Sharp-shinned or Cooper's Hawk?

I spotted a Bluejay sitting in a tree on King's Highway in Maxville, Wisconsin the other day.  Nothing unusual about that.  What caught my eye was its behavior.

The lone jay was bobbing up and down and squawking.  I could hear the "jay-er, jay-er" alarm call.  But I didn't see what it was that upset the jay.  There were no other birds on the ground or in the trees nearby.

So what's your problem, Mr. Bluejay?

I looked across the street and spotted the problem.  It was in a tree by the shed:  a large Accipiter hawk - probably a Cooper's.  The hawk took off as I opened my car window (to get a photo).  That got me thinking - we've seen shrikes at our feeders, but no Accipiters.  I wondered why. 

Then this morning, I looked out the kitchen window, and there it was:  an Accipiter on the ground below my birdfeeders.

Juvenile Sharp-shinned Hawk plucking a Downy Woodpecker

I grabbed my camera and with great stealth, opened my door.  I snapped two shots before the bird took off with its prey.

Okay... which is it - a Sharp-shinned or a Cooper's Hawk?  I had to pull out the ID books.

Eye color:  Both the Sharp-shinned and Cooper's Hawk juveniles have yellow eyes.  Adults have red eyes.

This one has bright yellow eyes, a juvenile for sure.

So now I go to Wheeler and Clark's Photographic Guide to North American Raptors to look at the differences between the two juveniles.

Belly:  In the Sharp-shinned, streaking of underparts extends into belly.

Back:  The Sharp-shinned has white spots on the back and upper wing coverts.

Eyebrow:  The Sharp-shinned has a pale supercilliary.

My best guess:   it's a Sharp-shinned.  Probably a female (female Accipiters are larger than males).

Hawks on the Highway

I spent the day driving east for a meeting in Michigan.

The worst part of the trip was driving through Chicago.  The best part - spotting dozens of Red-tailed Hawks along the interstates:  perching on wires, poles, tree tops, signs, barns, limbs, bridges, light posts and fences.   Only one looked like the illustration on the cover of Sibley's guide.  I was awed by the plumage variations.

Unfortunately, I had plans - so I had to be content "just looking."  I didn't have time to stop along the way and photograph them.

It must be spring in the upper midwest - I got a great look (great for going 60mph) at a pair of red-tails sharing a limb overlooking I-80 in northern Indiana.  They were about to do something "social" as I whizzed by.  (Check out the spring hawk watch at Whitefish Point)

I don't remember ever seeing so many flocks of crows, perched in trees, seemingly just hanging out.

And I saw my "first of the year" flock of starlings do their amazing aerial flight - flying in a tight ball formation, expanding and contracting with no apparent leader or communication.  It's like watching the bats fly out of Carlesbad Caverns at night - how do they fly so fast, so close, without having one out-of-step creature causing a crash?

Golden Eagles Redux

There was no action at my bird feeders this morning.   Not a bird in sight.  Okay, I thought, maybe the shrike is back, or there's an accipiter on the roof.  

I'd promised to make French toast for breakfast, so I turned my focus to the empty frying pan on the stove.  Eggs, toast and cinnamon, then the coffee grinder.  As I brought breakfast to the table, Tom whispered - stop!  stand still!  look at the feeders!

I stopped and looked at the window, then slowly, very slowly, grabbed my camera.  Yep... this Sharp-shinned Hawk was at my birdfeeders.

He took off and perched in the maple west of the house.  I tip-toed out the back door and circled around the house, hoping to come up behind him.  No such luck.   He saw me coming and flew off to the trees down by Misha Mokwa Creek. 

I took this as an omen.  I had to go out and look for a Golden Eagle.  Tom agreed.  So off we went.

I had stopped to look at one of several flocks of Horned Larks along the roadside.  When I got to the point where I violated their interpersonal distance, they flew.  Then I looked up.  There it was - soaring just above the hills to the east.  When it banked and zoomed towards us, its slightly dihedral wings made me pause.  

I grabbed my binoculars, noted the white patches on the wings and tail.  No doubt about it - a Golden Eagle.   I hopped out of the Prius and aimed my camera.  Snap.  In seconds it was gone, heading towards the Maxville School on State Road 25 - just a mile north of my house.

I got back in car and we continued looking for Bald Eagles and deer carcasses.  We didn't find any. However, we did get an unusually close look at a Black-capped Chickadee.  It was sitting in the middle of County V.  How close could we get in the stealth Prius?

 

I pulled up right next to it, got out of the car and walked right over to it, bird-whispering all the way.  Eyes closed, it seemed the bird was sitting on the road, sunbathing, soaking-up the rays.  But it was odd.  As I knelt down to pick it up, it let out a startled "chick-a-dee-dee-dee," and flew away.  

That's when I realized what was wrong with this picture.  The chickadee left behind a relatively large pile of guano - unnaturally pink and watery.  It might have been hit by a car - or maybe it picked up salmonella at the feeders just down the road (they looked as if they hadn't been cleaned in years). 

Red-tailed Hawks

Winter is a great time to spot hawks (and eagles) along rural roads in west-central Wisconsin. 

The other day, I averaged one Red-tailed Hawk per mile as I headed north towards Durand on State Rd 25 (and a lone Pileated Woodpecker).  It was the same heading south towards Nelson.

Unless I see an obvious "orange" tail, identification isn't automatic for me.  I have to stop and think.  There are so many differences between juveniles and adults, color morphs and races.  Plumage variation is the rule with Buteo jamaicensis.

 Red-tailed Hawk

Despite the whitish tail, this one was "easy" for me (note the diagnostic dark belly band and patagial marks).

Over the past few months, I've gotten to know 4 red-tails (and one rough-legged) pretty well.  I can actually predict which trees in which they're are likely to be perched - morning and afternoon.

I don't, however, leave home without a copy of Wheeler and Clark's Photographic Guide to North American Raptors in my car.

Rough-legged Hawk in the Snow

The sun broke through the clouds again this morning.   So I threw caution to the wind and took my Prius for a spin.

I didn't get far before I had to pull over onto the shoulder.  No, it wasn't a Prius challenge.  It was the very big black and white bird sitting atop the tree in my neighbor's yard.

 

Note the legs - feathered all the way to the toes

I grabbed my camera, rolled down the window and took a quick shot

When I opened the door to get out of my car, the bird took off.

I knew what it is.   Look at the distinctive black marks on its wrists...

...and the broad black band and white at the base of the tail.  Another distinguishing characteristic - that I didn't see - is hovering (like a kestrel) over a prey item (usually a rodent, but occasionally a bird).

It's a light morph Rough-legged Hawk, the second I've seen in the neighborhood since October.

These birds breed in the arctic and sub-arctic regions.  They migrate south, and over-winter in Canada and the US near airports and in agricultural areas where rodents are plentiful.  That's a good description of my neighborhood.  In addition to the corn and soybean fields, there's a very small private airport 2 miles up the road.

Rough-legs are known for hunting from perches in the winter - and my neighbor's tree provides a great view of surrounding cornfields.  They're often seen scavenging at roadkills.

                                                   Rough-legged Hawk Christmas Bird Count data

The Early Bird and the Hawk

I was an early bird this morning - up and about before the sun slid over the horizon.  I couldn't resist taking a look at my birdfeeders before I fixed myself an espresso.

It was dark, and at at first glance, I didn't see any birds.    Then I saw something moving in the bottom branches of the big spruce.

I grabbed my trusty little Bushnell 7x26 Custom binoculars for a better look.  I expected to see our local Northern Shrike.   It was a little Sharp-shinned Hawk.

I watched him pluck his breakfast.   It looked like a junco, but there wasn't enough light to be sure.  Despite the "bad" light, I pulled out my newly cleaned camera and snapped a photo.

After awhile, I took a break and made my latte.  As I walked back to the window, I knew the hawk was gone.  The feeders were, once again, full of birds.