Random Bald Eagle! (Local Birding)

There's a little bit of birdwatching I've done lately.  Nothing spectacular, but I've been quite pleased with the little, day-to-day common birds of this area, and spotted a couple less-than-common birds, too.  First up was this Crow (Corvus brachyrhynchos) who seemed to have won the jackpot- a whole fast food bag to itself!  It kept trying to fly off with it, and watching it struggle with the bag was quite hilarious.  It finally gave up when a few Pokemon Go players began their usual face-down rapid walk around Marina Point and disturbed it.

As usual, I have to clarify that I'm not completely anti- Pokemon Go, but those who play it do seem to shut their eyes to the world around them and disturb the local birds, especially the ones I'm trying to photograph.  There are a few birders I know, mostly by repute and not personally, who truly despise Pokemon Go's effect on local birdwatching spots.  The heavy traffic seems to scare everything away, especially back when the game was popular in July and August 2016.  I don't think it will be half as much a problem this spring, however, and they can go back to grousing about honeysuckle and bad weather patterns.

One thing I've learned is that there are evidently no optimistic nature-lovers, at least none who write the articles and guides I read.  Love of nature and optimism somehow seem incompatible.*  Everything is always going wrong, about to go wrong, or never far from danger of going wrong.  For instance, take this warm winter.  Birders aren't too thrilled about it, because it never got consistently cold enough to bring down most of the rarer northern birds like Snowy Owls or Pine Siskins to central Illinois. (Well, that and the obvious sign that localized warm weather means global warming in a beautiful fallacy of composition.**)

One of those groups that didn't make it here in numbers is larger northern gull species, leaving us with Ring-billed Gulls (Larus delawarensis), like the ones above.  There's still been plenty, but not nearly as many as there would be with a colder winter.  On the other hand, fewer gulls leaves the garbage on Marine Point more or less to the crows, which I'm sure they appreciate:

Now, you may have thought you were safer from last year's series of blurry photos of distant ducks, but they have finally returned, as I saw a LOT of ducks recently at Marine Point:

For Illinois duck species, there are basically four major divisions.  There are the big sea ducks, the eiders and scoters that I rarely see, then the long, thin-billed mergansers that seem to have mostly flown north this year.  Following this are the diving ducks, the Ring-billed Ducks, Scaups, Redheads, etc that make up much of the photo above, and then the most numerous are the dabbling ducks, like the Gadwalls, Green-winged Teal, American Wigeons, and Mallards that are also in the photo above.  (The Ruddy Duck is sort of in its own little group, too, I suppose.)

I then went over to the Lake Springfield Beach House, where the earliest flowers locally, the Bird's Eye Speedwells (Veronica persica), grow en masse.  One of the best bird's eyes around watched me as I took photos of the speedwells:

The Peregrine Falcon  (Falco peregrinus) that lived at the Beach House last year has returned.  I suspect it follows the gulls, since I usually see it at the same time as large numbers of gulls congregate on Lake Springfield.  However, there's one other possibility:

The American Coots  (Fulica americana) have returned in good numbers, and it definitely feels like spring has come.  Little rafts of them floated up and down the shoreline, diving and splashing merrily.

Every so often, another sign of spring would poke its head up out of the water.  This is the head of a Red-eared Slider (Trachemys scripta elegans) , and it's the first turtle I've seen this year.

I saw three more in the same area, however, so clearly they're coming up in the warmer waters.  Some turtles, like this species, spend the winter sitting in the mud on the bottom, occasionally moving around and eating a bit of food.  They come up to bask during thaws in the weather, but on rare occasions people see turtles moving under the ice, even in the middle of January!

I visited Centennial Park fairly recently, and spotted this American Kestrel  (Falco sparverius) above, my favorite species of hawk, albeit one of the most common species.  It was hovering over Centennial Hill, and eventually dove after a mouse behind the hill.  I didn't see it again, so I assume the hunt went well for this bird.

Nearby, dozens of Horned Larks (Eremophila alpestris) flew away from me.  I improvised a disguise for myself, however- I hid in my car and let them get closer, allowing me to get a few pictures before they flew.  These little birds love the short mowed grasses that dominate half of Centennial Park.

My best recent sighting, however, was on a brief stroll through my neighborhood.  My mother and I were enjoying the fresh air when off in the distance at a local park, we spotted a large dark shape.  As we got closer, we saw a white head and tail on that dark shape.  It turned out that a Bald Eagle had decided to land in this tree, miles from the nearest large body of water!

I ran back home and got my camera, just in time to get the eagle before it soared away.  This is about as close to a Bald Eagle as I've ever gotten, within twenty-five feet overhead.  I may have seen nothing spectacular, nothing out of the ordinary, but I've enjoyed my time here locally just the same.

* I should specify that I have met a few optimistic-minded birders, but they are in the minority of all nature enthusiasts I have met.
** I do not mean that global warming is not happening, I merely refer to the fallacy that local newscasters often make when saying that a local warm winter is clearly indicative of global warming.  This is also known as the part-to-whole fallacy.

Why I Should Never Plan Too Much

This trip is the perfect example of why having a year list isn't always conducive to having fun.  I had three goals in mind- find Silvery Salamanders, find a Northern Shrike, and find Forest Glen Seep and its Skunk Cabbage population.  I failed to find all three, and considering the latter is a nature preserve about 8 acres in size, that takes some sort of talent.

Despite all this, I had an amazing trip.  But, I'll refrain from skipping to the end first.

I had this remarkably fine weekend, with 65 + degree temperatures unnatural to Illinois in February.  However, the migrant waterfowl, at least on Lake Springfield, have not been moving much, or rather, they have moved north faster than I would have preferred.  I contented myself with this Red-headed Woodpecker (Melanerpes erythrocephalus) when checking the lake, but I knew I'd have to go further afield.  (Edit:  I read afterwards that there were huge masses of Snow Geese at Emiquon and nearby refuges. I would have had fun either way.)

I chose to go to the nature preserves of Vermilion County, where dwell 11 out of the 20 salamander species present in Illinois, which is at least 7 more than have even been recorded from my area.  Vermilion County is the former edge of what used to be the great eastern forests.  Some of that forest's niche plants and animals only get this far into Illinois' eastern edge before giving up and going no further west.  

Nowadays, all of this is farmed, but there remains a large block of forest around Illinois' only National Wild and Scenic River, the Middle Fork of the Vermilion River.  I've mentioned before that there are two Vermilion Rivers in eastern Illinois, and both have their headwaters in the same area. This is the southbound one, flowing into the Wabash River.  Being a National Wild and Scenic River means essentially that this is a beautiful and unpolluted river.

CAUTION:  UNPOPULAR INVERTEBRATE AHEAD

Once I reached the first preserve, Middle Fork Illinois Nature Preserve, I began flipping pieces of bark, and here's where I ran into problems. This area hasn't had a recent rain.  Rainstorms help to bring up the generally subterranean salamanders, but if there's been no rain, there's very few salamanders on the surface, under rocks and logs.  Instead, we get large centipedes.  This is not OK.

I worked my way deep into the preserve, finding basically nothing salamander-wise.  I did find three Pileated Woodpeckers and a mob (aggressive vigilante group of birds) of crows and jays attacking a Red-shouldered Hawk and then mobbing a Great Horned Owl, all of which flew away before I could even think about getting my camera.  Then I found a small white fence around a pond.

Every so often in the fence, there were loosely-covered buckets, plunged into the earth.  (I could tell from the bucket lids; I did not actually disturb this setup).  This appears to be a salamander population study, with bucket traps set up every so often around the fence.

I would love to know the person who runs this, and pay them a visit when they're checking their traps, as that could be far more productive for seeing salamanders.  While the area inside the fence looked ideal, I assumed that's what was meant by "Please Do Not Disturb", so I didn't go in. I did flip two logs well outside of the fence, as well as the plastic bin seen above. The plastic bin had something underneath which beeped at me, so I let it be, and casually flipped over another log...

Underneath that log was the smallest adult salamander I've ever seen, and it was quite easy to identify, since I saw that back  coloration immediately. This is the Eastern Red-backed Salamander (Plethodon cinereus), possibly the most populous salamander species in the world.  Some areas of good habitat can have over 1,000 of these salamanders per acre!  I found one.

Eastern Red-backed Salamanders are only found along the eastern edge of Illinois, a place where huge swaths of forest have naturally grown for thousands of years.  Furthermore, it's a dry February, which isn't the best time to find this species. If I had come back on a wet day in March or October, I would have found many, many more, according to the sources I've read.

Eastern Red-backed Salamanders belong to  a group of salamanders known as lungless salamanders. Like all amphibians, they breathe through their skin, but in the case of lungless salamanders, they ONLY breathe through their skin. This process requires constantly wet skin, so this species, like most salamanders, lives in wet areas only, or remains underground where the humidity is higher in seasonally wet areas that haven't had rain in a bit, like here.

(Note, the salamander was handled only to put it on the log for a photo, after which it was released along the edge of the replaced log, where it immediately went back underneath.)

The woods are certainly lovely.  While there's no large rock outcrops, the amount of small, rock-bottomed ravines, ephemeral ponds, springs, and creeks is far higher than what I'm used to.  This area is perfect salamander habitat.  It needs to be, as a State-Endangered species of salamander, the Silvery Salamander, theoretically resides here.  I suspect that species is the one being studied in the research project seen above.  It's been too dry for those to emerge from their burrows, so I found none.

 After several hundred feet, the woods seemed to end. I walked to that end, the top of a steep bluff.

Below was this, the National Wild and Scenic Middle Fork of the Vermilion River (the south-flowing one).  It was quite a large river, though I think not entirely large enough to fit its title.

I walked along the edge of the bluff, crossing ravines and creeks like the one above as I came to them.  I do love the openness of these woods, where I found not a single Asian Honeysuckle bush.

On this beach, I had my first butterfly of the year, a Mourning Cloak which startled me and flew off quickly enough that I was unable to get its picture.  Both a new butterfly and a new earliest-time-seeing a butterfly for me!  Spring is certainly on its way!

I found a lifer Southern Two-lined Salamander under a rock in a creek as I worked my way up from the river, though it dived down a hole before I could get its picture or even get more than a quick look at it.  Being unable to get pictures of animals was becoming monotonous, to borrow a phrase from Mark Twain.  Then I found an animal I could look at as long as I wanted. Notably, it was dead.

I found this Eastern Box Turtle shell in the creek.  What fascinates me is the fact that it has a radio tracker on the back of the turtle.  I've never seen one of these in real life before.  I'm currently making inquires into who runs this program that tracks Box Turtles out here, and I will write more information below when I find out what project this turtle was involved in.

(Space left blank for finishing the story)

I found this strange water-filled concrete structure at the top of the stream, containing my first-ever Wood Frog, dead and bloated.  (Photo not taken because I never want to see that again.) I'm going to wait and find a live Wood Frog before considering it a lifer.  At this point, I was hungry, so I had my lunch in my car and drove to a "strip mine" where a Northern Shrike had been seen the day before.  It was time for the second chapter of "The Great Shrike Hunt".  (The first chapter is here.)

As mentioned previously,  I saw no shrike.  I did find something else, however:

Large numbers of Greater White-fronted Geese (Anser albifrons) and Snow Geese (Chen caerulescens) sat just a hundred feet away from the road, in what looked to be more of a quarry pond than a strip mine.  I have no idea what this place is, but the birding was great!

Thousands more Snow Geese littered the hillsides, with Ring-billed Ducks (Yes, that was intentional)  (Aythya collaris) on the ponds.

Redheads  (Aythya americana) and Lesser Scaups (Aythya affinis) were also present in this large group of ducks, which stretched across the foreground.  This area is where the Shrike was reported.

All at once, something I did must have spooked the Snow Geese, as they flew up in a vast cloud.

I've never been so close to a large flock of Snow Geese before.  It was spectacular in a way that that word feels inadequate to describe such a spectacle.

They eventually looked like they were going to depart, so I took photos of a nearby Northern Harrier (Circus cyaneus) flying about on the other side of the road.

Here it is, just before it plunged on some poor mouse:

Then the geese decided to come back, even closer than before, at least while flying.

I found sixteen Ross' Geese in the photo above, essentially miniature Snow Geese.

After the geese landed, just a bit further away than before, I decided to go looking for that Northern Harrier again.  I rediscovered it as it flew out of a bunch of grass:

I kept looking for the Shrike, but instead I found some large mounds of gravel or something, looking very much like I'd accidentally ended up in the Badlands:

Nearby, I found this. I had formerly been wondering if I was ever to get a photograph of this species:

This is the fairly-common-but-I-only-see-it-when-driving-so-thus-it's-difficult-to-photograph Rough-legged Hawk (Buteo lagopus).  It's named for its feather-covered legs, clearly visible above.  I watched it through my scope until it flew away, back into the "Badlands".   Satisfied that I'd finally photographed something, I then left for Forest Glen Preserve.

Now, for the next part, I want you to realize that I don't usually get lost, and that when I do, it is never my fault, but the fault of the cellular data or the map.  In this case, however, I blame someone else.

Whoever designed the layout of Forest Glen County Preserves deserves some form of cruel and unusual punishment.  It's the most deliberately confusing road network I've ever driven.

Now, looking at this map, it may seem that I am being overly dramatic. However,  it might be observed that some of these roads rapidly turn up and down through woods, so that visibility is not always easy.  Furthermore, these roads go from "One Way" to both lanes rather suddenly (and vice versa).  Additionally, the road signs generally do not mark the Illinois Nature Preserves or trailheads. instead pointing to every closed, special-event only building,  Also, some of these roads are closed to all but the "staff" (none of which I could find on a Saturday afternoon).

I rest my case.

I pulled over to ask a few visitors where the group campgrounds were.  The first thing I was told was "You can't miss it." There's a reason those words are joked about by comedians everywhere.  I never found the group campgrounds.  Instead, I contented myself with Doris Westfall Illinois Nature Preserve and some calling frogs, the first ones I've heard this year.  I never did see the frogs, though.

I then found my way to a trail, which said it was a mile long, enough for an hour's slow examination.  I thus proposed to hike it, stopping by the beautiful stream on the side:

I've never seen a creek in Central Illinois as lovely as this, and only a handful in Southern Illinois to even be worth comparing!  I'd imagine there's a few salamanders in it, but I never found any here.

I did find another Illinois Nature Preserve, Howard's Hollow Seep, the third Illinois Nature Preserve of the day!  Here I found the species I'd been trying to find at Forest Glen Seep, the earliest flower of the year, the lowly Skunk Cabbage (Symplocarpus foetidus):

It soon became evident that this was not a rare plant!  I found at least a hundred flowers of this species, and the smell soon became quite bad, as this plant is aptly called Skunk Cabbage.  It's neither a skunk nor a cabbage, but it smells like a mixture of the two.

Despite having very large leaves in the summertime, the flowers were surprisingly small, as you can see above.  Several flies were out and about, attracted to the smell.

On one of the flowers above, a rather clever little spider waited to pounce on the pollinating flies.  That strange thing in the center of the little "hood" is the actual flower here.  Howard's Hollow Seep looks like a great place for other salamanders, but there weren't many logs to flip, and I didn't want to disturb what looked to be a very healthy marshland.

I eventually left after a bit more hiking, somehow found my way out, and decided to drive to Indiana to end the day.  A minute down the road, I reached Indiana.  Looking out over the Vermilion River, I considered my journey ended, and drove back home.  It was a wonderful day, even if it didn't exactly go according to plan.  Honestly, I need to just stop trying to plan everything and roll with it more.

Ebird Checklists:

Middle Fork Nature Preserve

http://ebird.org/ebird/view/checklist/S34491045

Quarry/ Strip Mine Ponds

http://ebird.org/ebird/view/checklist/S34491414