Listing Through Life

tyrannus (monarch, ruler) verticalis (the top of the head)

Tuesday, July 16, 1991 — 5:10 pm

Clay County, Minnesota — Felton Prairie — Route 34 near junction with Route 27

After spending the morning at Agassiz National Wildlife Refuge, I drove south to Felton Prairie, a large area of grassland that supposedly harbors Chestnut-sided Longspurs.  I visited a Nature Conservancy preserve and drove around the area, but didn’t see any longspurs.

I did see this kingbird, however.  It was perched on a roadside wire above a grassy field.  I passed it and pulled over for a better look.  I twisted around like a contortionist to get a glimpse through my binoculars and saw a bit of yellow belly.  I jumped out of the car just in time to see it flit out over the road and catch a large bug in its bill.  It landed briefly on the wire again then took off across the field to a grove of trees about 60 yards away.  As it disappeared high into the branches, I saw the white outer-edges on its black tail.  I didn’t follow because the trees were clustered around a house.

I kept looking around the area for another hour or so, but I didn’t see another one, or any other lifers either.  The four lifer sightings I had this day were all less than optimum.  I don’t think I had all four of them in my binoculars for an aggregate one minute.

alces alces

July 16, 1991 — 1:40 pm

Agassiz National Wildlife Refuge, Minnesota — Route 7

I took off very early this morning to drive up to Agassiz. I wanted to see some new birds, but I also wanted to see a moose. Everyone told me my only chance was to get up there very early in the morning, but since it was a four-hour drive, this proved impossible. I didn’t arrive until mid-morning. And I picked a lousy day. It was already 90°, and my car didn’t have air conditioning.

I stopped at the visitor center and got a key to a gate that allowed me into the back country of the refuge. I saw two lifers, a Black-billed Magpie and a Franklin’s Gull, but most of the birds were off in the shade somewhere. The heat wore me out, and I soon gave up. I dropped the key off at headquarters. About that time, a large gray cloud rolled in. The temperature dropped and the wind kicked up. I drove the regular tour road, climbed the observation tower, then headed out of the refuge.

Up ahead, in the brush alongside the road, I saw what looked like a huge brown rabbit.

I stopped the car and looked through my binoculars. To my amazement, I had discovered a cow Moose.

I pulled forward until I was even with it and began snapping pictures. It was browsing in the bushes along a small puddle about 30 yards south of the road. It looked up, walked a short way back into the brush, grazed a bit, looked up, walked in a little further, and so on until it was about 100 yards away.

larus (ravenous seabird) pipixcan (Aztec word, suggesting Mexico)

Tuesday, July 16, 1991 — 11:20 am

Agassiz National Wildlife Refuge, Minnesota — west border between Pool B and Northwest Pool

I was miserable. This day wasn’t going at all like I had planned. I wasn’t seeing any of the birds I wanted to see. Over an hour had gone by since I’d seen the Black-billed Magpie. The heat was wiping me out. (My car didn’t have air conditioning.) I was thirsty, but all I had to drink was a can of Diet A&W Root Beer that was lying on the back seat getting hotter and hotter  I decided to save it for an emergency. Nothing was moving, not even the wildlife. I came upon a Red Fox lying in the meager shade of the roadside grass. As I crept forward, it got up and crossed the road into the marsh. A few moments later it popped back out. It trotted lazily down the road, keeping about 30 yards in front of the car. I stopped to look at a bird, and the fox disappeared around a bend. When I drove on, there was the fox, standing in the road. It resumed its lope, seemingly unwilling to put forth any effort.

I gave up. I cut down a side road to the refuge boundary where I was greeted by another locked gate. I stumbled out of the car to unlock it. As I pulled the key from my pocket, I spotted a gull flying over. I knew it had to be a Franklin’s Gull. The refuge supposedly had a massive breeding colony of them, and I’d expected to be inundated with them, but three hours had gone by and I hadn’t seen one. Until now.

It flew in from the west, over the farmland that borders the refuge. It circled slowly above me about 30 feet off the ground. I unlocked the gate and walked back to the car. Before I could get my binoculars, the gull had disappeared. But I had seen its black head, red bill and diagnostic wing pattern.

I pulled through the gate, locked it behind me and started down the road back to headquarters. I’d only gone a short way when I saw the gull circling low over the marsh. The sun was behind it, and the white on the wing bars, trailing edge of the wings and tail glowed with a silver-white translucency in the light. It was a very pretty view, although I’m not usually excited by gulls. For four hours I hadn’t seen another human being.

I drove the Lost Bay Auto Tour without seeing anything interesting. I used the key to let myself onto the observation tower near headquarters. The tower is 100 feet tall and catches the wind. While I was up there, some clouds rolled through and blocked the sun. As a result, the time I spent up there was the only time I wasn’t hot and miserable all day. I had a great view of the marsh, but saw no new birds.

pica (magpie) pica (ditto)

Tuesday, July 16, 1991 — 10:05 am

Agassiz National Wildlife Refuge, Minnesota — West Gate Road — Madsen Pool

I finally arrived at Agassiz at 8:30, after a more than four-hour drive. It was 90 degrees and the sun was out in full force. I figured I was too late in the day to see a Moose, and that was a disappointment. I stopped at the refuge headquarters and asked for the key to the gate that would let me into the back areas of the refuge. The lady I talked to gave me some birding hints and told me I was there at the wrong time of year to see much.

I locked the gate behind me and had miles and miles of refuge to myself. I felt like the world was before me and nothing could go wrong. Nothing went wrong, but it didn’t go anywhere else either. The marsh grasses were tall and blocked the view. The birds were in molt and hidden in the reeds. And it was hot.

I saw a flock of American White Pelicans circling slowly in the heat. Shortly afterward, I saw a Black-billed Magpie. It took off out of a grassy field about 30 yards ahead of me and flew across the road in front of the car. It continued in direct flight about six feet off the ground. I jumped out of the car and watched it fly in a 180-degree half-circle clockwise around me, always at least 30 yards away. It flew into a grove of trees in the marsh and disappeared.

In retrospect, I probably should have followed and tried to see it again. But I expected to see more and it was too hot for any effort.

tympanuchus (from tympanon, kettle drum, and echein, to have) cupido (the “blind bow boy,” son of Venus because the feathers on the bird’s neck were likened to Cupid’s wings)

Tuesday, July 16, 1991 — 6:35 am

Mahnomen County, Minnesota — Route 59, south of Waubun

I got up at 4:00 a.m. and drove north in search of birds, Moose and adventure. I found all three, but not to the extent I’d hoped. It was already 70°. My destination was Agassiz National Wildlife Refuge. Morning dawned, cloudy and warm. I was driving north on a two-lane highway through endless miles of cropland (including many fields of sunflowers) and prairie.

I noticed a grouse-like bird trot across the road in front of an oncoming semi-truck about 40 yards in front of me. It reached the west shoulder of the road and stopped. I got enough of a look as I zipped past to get interested. I pulled over on the east shoulder and grabbed my Peterson’s. I knew it was a female prairie-chicken or a Sharp-tailed Grouse, but I wanted to find the distinctive marks.

Twenty seconds later I jumped out of the car and looked back through my binoculars. The bird was still standing in the same place, looking about nervously, and dipping its head up and down. I started walking back toward it and waited for a car to pass before crossing the road. Just as the car passed, I saw a half-grown chick sprint across the road and join the female. The two of them disappeared down the embankment. In the time it took me to cover the last twenty yards, they had vanished into the tall grass along the edge of a field.

I saw the female well enough to spot the barred undersides, rounded tail, and stripe-like neck feathers, but not as well as I would have liked. My impulse was to kick around in the grass to flush it, but knowing it was a declining species, I resisted.

I continued north, suddenly very aware that I was in completely new birding territory. It wasn’t until that night, when I finally returned to the cabin, that I discovered A Birder’s Guide to Minnesota said, “… most often seen in Waubun Marsh on the Mahnomen/Becker County line.” That’s exactly where I had seen them.