Christmas in Montana

Woke up this morning to a heavy fog, and hoar frost that coated everything in thick coat of ice crystals. At around 10:00 am I headed down to Lee Metcalf Wildlife Refuge to take photos and do a little birding.

As I approached the refuge the sun broke through the clouds, creating an almost spring-like day. I say almost, because even though it was sunny, the temperature was still only a brisk 40 degrees. I noticed a Great Blue Heron in the cow pasture alongside the road and stopped to get a picture, but it flew off as I approached (they are such skittish creatures!) Just inside the refuge I parked my rig and headed into the woods to walk along the river, and several Mallards fed in an open channel near the trailhead. Along the path to the river I was met by several curious Black-capped Chickadees and one very cooperative Red-breasted Nuthatch.

A Hairy Woodpecker and several Northern Flickers greeted my a few hundred yards further down the trail, and across the river a Bald Eagle flew by and landed in a large cottonwood tree.

After I returned to my vehicle I drove down to the levee between the two main ponds, the larger of which was completely frozen over. The smaller one to the north however, was still mostly open and occupied by a fair sized flock of Canada Geese, several Killdeer and Green-winged Teals, A male and female Common Goldeneye, a Lesser Scaup, a Ring-necked Duck and a solitary Pintail.

In the open fields bordering the marsh, numerous Rough-legged, Red-tailed and Sharp-shinned Hawks, along with two Northern Harriers hunted mice and voles; sometimes hovering high overhead to spot their quarry, and sometimes swooping down and flying low over the tall grass.

I stayed almost two hours, taking photos and trying to identify passerines without the aid of my trusty field guide, which had been left on the table next to the front door. All in all, not a bad day of birding for the middle of winter!

As I headed for home, the clouds once again rolled in and enveloped the snow covered Bitterroot Mountains, reminding me that it was indeed, still winter. By 7:00 this evening the wind kicked up and the fog once again rolled quietly in, wrapping us in an icy blanket.

12:20 pm on Christmas Eve. Overcast, light snow, cold and windy. I bundled up to brave the cold and took a walk on the trail along the creek early this afternoon, and there were no signs of life anywhere. No deer, no birds, not even any fresh tracks in the snow. Even the creek was quiet, locked into its frozen prison once again. The only sound was my footsteps in the crusty snow.

The silence was short lived however, for as I returned home and approached the steps of my back door, I heard a loud crack and looked up to see a white-tail buck crashing through the brush in the cottonwoods, headed in my direction at a high rate of speed. Angered that a neighboring dog was loose and running the poor critter, I watched as it exited the trees. To my great surprise, it was not a dog that was chasing the deer, but a mountain lion! Once the buck cleared the trees there was no chance of the cat catching it, and it stopped to watch its Christmas feast disappear over a fence and across the open fields. It was panting heavily and short puffs of steam escaped its mouth into the frosty air. It was quite a large animal - long, sleek and muscular. As it turned to head back into the trees it spotted me, and for a few brief moments we stared at each other in mutual surprise and amazement, its gold eyes piercing into my soul, almost hypnotizing me with both fear and awe. It let out a low, frustrated growl and faded back into the woods.

It was a perfect opportunity for a photo of this elusive creature, and as the cat disappeared into the trees I became suddenly aware that I had been standing there with camera in hand the entire time, but had been so awestruck by this entire scene that it hadn't even occurred to me to attempt any photos. So the image is forever etched into my mind, to be seen only be me.

I've seen plenty of the cat's tracks in the cottonwood bottom this time of year, but have never actually seen it. While they are primarily nocturnal, they must hunt when the game is available, which means they must also be active in daylight hours if need be. This was my first sighting of one of these magnificent creatures, and as I went inside I considered myself fortunate to have been able to see it so close - hopefully as close as I'll ever get to one,especially one that's so hungry...

Here Kitty, Kitty, Kitty...

Co-o-o-o-old today! At 11:00 this morning it was only 7 degrees.

After bundling up and looking more like the Michelin Man than an actual human, I went out earlier for a short walk on the trail. Ice is beginning to form along the banks of the creek, and while the water still runs free, it will sooned be silenced by the icy prison winter will bestow upon it.

I found plenty of fresh tracks in the snow. Not only deer and fox but also a coyote had visited in the early morning hours.

I followed the fox tracks through the woods to the edge of the creek, where they back-tracked toward the fire pit and the bridge. I walked up the approach to the bridge to see if it had gone across but instead it had crossed the trail and went down the opposite embankment. I was then surprised to find larger tracks - as big as my fist - leading across the bridge, clearly visible in the light snow. Initially I thought (and hoped), it was a wolf, but upon closer examination and a good animal tracks field guide, I soon determined by the three lobed heel pad that it was actually a mountain lion. Its tracks are about five inches long - that's one big kitty!

I followed the cat's tracks across the bridge and along the trail for a few hundred feet, where they veered off into the trees - and I did not follow. I did not sense its presence so I doubt it was there, but you never know. It could very well have been perched in the branches of one of the old cottonwood trees, watching my every move!

As I returned across the bridge I scared up three white-tail deer; a doe with her almost fully grown twins fawns. The three of them, in thick winter coats, stood and watched me for a short while before moving along, the two fawns bounding away, their bushy white tails waving good-bye.

After returning indoors and thawing out, I can hear the wind howling as it swirls the falling snow into tiny white tornadoes. Now, at 2:00 I doubt the temperature has gotten much warmer; in fact with the wind chill it may even be well below zero. But stretched out on the buffalo robe in front of a cozy fire with a steaming cup of hot chocolate and both of my dogs curled up beside me, more than makes up for the frigid temperatures outside.

Winter Has Arrived

Gray, dreary, lazy day. Beginning at around 9:00 last night, and on into late morning today, we've had two inches of snow. It's a little later this year than last (last year it snowed on Halloween and never left until June), but still too early for my liking. They say we're in for a similar winter as last year, with lots of snow (can we safely say the drought is over?) I'm never really ready for it, and by March I'm usually sick of it, but I do have to admit that it is a wonderous transformation, although not always for the better.

Makes driving a bit trickier, especially now that I have a new rig and have not had time to get used to the way it handles before the roads got a bit more treacherous, as well as those idiots on the road who think they can drive the same on icy roads as they do on dry ones.

However, I do love taking photographs in winter - needless to say I get such different photos in snow, ice and frost. I guess each season has its advantages and disadvantages, we simply have to search for the good side...

Except for a few Flickers, I have not seen much in the way of birds at my feeders. The neighbor cut down most of his orchard, leaving very few appealing places for the birds to perch from. Could that be why they've disappeared? There are other trees around the area, but none as close as these were. Guess I need to look into planting some trees to attract the birds - Hawthorns! They attract a number of native species, plus the long thorns help deter squirrels and cats. Not that I have anything against them, but I'd rather not be wasting bird seed on the squirrels; nor do I want the cats killing the birds.

There has been a small flock of Hungarian Partridges in the area the past couple of weeks, I need to set out a tray of cracked corn for them, and hopefully they'll decide to winter over.

So Long Summer

Although the days are still pleasant, there is a chill and a hint of frost in the morning air these days. The cottonwood trees are beginning to turn freckled gold, the summer birds have all migrated away and the geese are flocking in ever growing numbers.

The osprey have been gone for a few weeks now, the last stragglers of this year's broods finally following their parents south. Deer are already heading to lower ground, as evident by a nice little four point buck in the neighbor's field near the edge of a small, nearby subdivision.

The fox in the field behind my house, only a month ago looking smooth and sleek, now grows the beginning of a thick winter coat.

Wading pools, lawn chairs and shade umbrellas are being stored away; leaf rakes and lawn mowers tidy up the last vestiges of summer, and storm windows and snow shovels are being dug out of garages, sheds and barns.

The remnants of my garden leaves behind evidence of a fruitful year. Tomatoes, cucumbers, squash, peppers, carrots, corn, onions and potatoes are now harvested and stored, canned or frozen for the winter months. The apple and pear trees, once bulging with fruit, now stand mostly bare and the returning magpies feast on the remainder of the crop. Hanging in the pantry are small paper bags, filled with herbs being dried for tea and a host of other herbal concoctions.

The smell of the harvest fills my house. On the kitchen table rows of jars are filled with apple or pear butter, pickled vegetables, canned fruit, salsa, and jellies of varying flavors.

Bags of wild huckleberries fill a shelf in the freezer, tiny purple pearls of delectable flavor, waiting to offer themselves for smoothies, pancakes, salad dressing, syrup and a variety of baked goods. The berry season was almost a month late this year, but well worth the wait for the fattest, juiciest hucks I've ever seen! They will be used sparingly, savoring every last one until next year's berries are ready for picking!

I feel a sense of great accomplishment in preparing all of the food from my very own garden. As the days get shorter and we cling to what's left of summer weather before saying farewell, I can sit back and relax, knowing that my freezer and pantry are well stocked. So long summer, hello fall!

Signs of Autumn

Summer is slowly drawing to a close. The sun is already beginning its rotation south, as evident by the much longer shadows on the north side of the house these days. And even though the days are still toasty (upper 80s to mid 90s), the nighttime temperatures are already dipping into the mid 40s!

The young Lewis' Woodpeckers have long since fledged, and the entire family has abandoned their summer home for warmer weather elsewhere. The Canada Geese are flocking in larger numbers, and the Robins and Mourning Doves and other songbirds have packed up and moved on. The Goldfinches have finally molted their sunny yellow feathers and now take on the drab greenish-brown of their winter plumage. The Osprey nests, recently overflowing with rapidly growing chicks, are now nothing more than a giant cluster of sticks, left to the passerine sub-leasers who brave the long Montana winters. The woods, only last week filled with avian activity, are now mostly silent except for the few feathered procrastinators still clinging to the last vestiges of the Rocky Mountain summer.

Along the river, the Cottonwoods are already boasting golden leaves, and the river itself has dropped considerably in volume, expsing its rocky sandbars that seem to giggle as the water trickles over them.

Sunrise appears a few minutes later each morning, and the sets a few minutes later. But it compensates for the loss of daylight with the most dramatic displays of the year. The lower light plays off of the light and shadow of the late summer storm clouds, and I believe these are the best of the entire year.

The Perseid meteor showers were in full force this weekend! Went with some friends to an area away from city lights to camp under the stars and watch the show. Not wanting to miss one moment of it, we worked in shifts to watch for them, and at about 2:00 am our efforts were rewarded with a most spectacular display that even the full moon could not diminish. We "ooh-ed" and "ahh-ed", clapping and cheering at each one, seeming bigger and brighter than the last, until the light of dawn broke over the mountains and washed away the darkness.

I leave you with some late summer sunrises and sunsets. The colors are as the camera saw them - no Photoshop editing here!

Good-Bye July

I cannot believe it's almost August! (do I say that every month?)

The weather has been absolutely beautiful for the past couple of weeks; mid 70s to mid 80's, and the few 90+ days we've had have been spread out enough to make it tolerable.

Mornings have been so peaceful. I've been walking down to the river very early - before the sun comes up, but while it's still light enough to see. This morning there were seven Great Blue Herons along the shore! All but one flew off as I approached, the last one being far enough away so it knew I wasn't able to catch up to it - either that or older and more experienced. Now that the spring runnoff has finally subsided, the water is so calming; I could sit for hours and lose myself in it. Only the birds and the deer to keep me company.

There are Nodding Onions everywhere! I noticed a few of them about four weeks ago, and suddenly there is a profusion of them. Only about a foot tall at the most, and very delicate looking flower heads. The bulbs are edible, as their name indicates, and they add a most delicious flavor when cooked into stew. They were a staple for the Indians and also used by mountain men, trappers, and white settlers. I don't know of any critters that eat them.

The birds have been quite active. Monday morning I noticed three Lewis' Woodpeckers in an old snag near the river, chattering shamelessly away at each other. A pheasant called from somewhere nearby, and swallows of an undetermined species flew jaggedly about overhead. As I headed back, the sun was rising over the mountains, and the low storm clouds offered a most beautiful sunrise! Shortly after, the sun hid behind a cloudbank and peeked through a hole in the clouds, spreading beautiful rays of white light onto the charcoal gray clouds. The storm clouds lingered all day, but did not produce any weather.

Tuesday there was again a magnificent sunrise, with the sky glowing pink against the dark, tree covered mountains. This time the rays of sunlight shone upward into the clouds. But it didn't last long enough for me to grab my camera...

Yesterday offered one more beautiful sunrise, which I did get photos of; and then proceeded to chase four Lewis' Woodpeckers through the trees, trying to get photos. They did not seem to be afraid of me, but stayed high up in the pines, as is typical for them. I did manage one decent shot, but definately have to keep trying. I did get some nice photos of the Barn Swallows that frequent the creek just east of the river.

Today was cloudless, so no dramatic sunrise, but another glorious day. High of 82 with a light breeze blowing all day. Nice enough to leave windows open all day and enjoy the fresh air and sunshine. (But still too warm to mow the lawn, which is now looking more like a wild meadow).

Dinner on the barbie tonight; grilled buffalo burgers; grilled veggies and a tomato-cucumber salad. The grill theme continued with dessert - grilled pineapple! YUM....

FOX!

Another beautiful summer morning! A few scattered clouds, lots of sunshine, and plenty of birds singing outside my bedroom window. This makes three nice days in a row, the longest warm weather streak we've had all year!! It just felt like a great day, but it was about to get even better...

On my way into town this morning a fox crossed the road in front of me, and I slowed down, expecting it to head up and over an embankment on the other side. Not so... instead it stayed right there on the side of the road, hunting for breakfast! I quickly pulled over and grabbed my camera (which I am never without), and snapped off several photos. It appeared a little bit startled by the shutter and eyed me cautiously. After a few moments, convinced that I was not a threat, it continued its quest for food, wandering along the slope on the side of the road. After about ten minutes and 30 or so photos, I set the camera down and started to drive off. Just then it topped the embankment and with clear blue sky behind it, I opted for "just a few more" shots. It stopped, nose pointed down the slope, and froze with front legs crouched. Suddenly it pounced, all four feet off the ground, then lifted it's head and looked right at me, with a nice fat vole hanging out of its mouth. And then "chomp, chomp, chomp" and the vole was gone.

A few more photos and I left the fox to itself, feeling so fortunate that it chose this roadside diner in which to have its breakfast.

Welcome Summer!

Well, yesterday was the Summer Solstice; the longest day of the year - now the days begin to get shorter. :( With all of the way above average rainfall this year, and so many wet, overcast and generally blah days, it hardly seems like we've had spring, let alone summer. But the past two days have been clear and sunny with temps as high as 83 today, and aside from a few scattered thunderstorms in the evenings, the weather is supposed to be warm and sunny, at least through the weekend.

Dragged myself out of bed at the god-awful hour of 3:30 yesterday morning, to make another trek down to the refuge for some pre-sunrise photos. It wasn't as fruitful as the trip in May; the weather last month being much cooler and more humid, and made for some wonderful mist on the ponds. This time around the sunrise was much brighter with harsher light. But I did manage a few useful shots, so the day wasn't a total waste.

There were not as many birds this time around either. Most are nesting or raising broods and are remaining hidden. Even the ever-abundant Canada goose was absent from the scene. I did see a Pie-billed Grebe with two chicks, but they remained at the far side of the pond, out of reach for even my long telephoto lens. What I did manage to photograph, however, were a Marsh Wren and a Common Yellowthroat. Very tiny birds with incredibly loud voices - the opera singers of the avian world; they can belt out a song like nobody's business!

Only stayed at the refuge until 7:30 or so, then headed home. High temp today of 78 and a clear blue sky! I almost turned on the outside water, and I did finally shut off the furnace...

Summer Visitors

Rain, rain, rain.... may as well be living in Seattle! So far this summer I think we've had only about a week's worth of really nice, summer-like weather. Mostly it's been raining, cloudy, windy, thunderstorms, etc. It's pretty sad when I have to turn on the heater in the middle of June because it's only 46 degrees in my house; normally the furnace is completely shut off by Memorial Day! At this rate, fall will be here before summer...

Tomorrow and Wednesday are supposed to be decent however, and I'm just itchin' to get out and take some photographs. I have managed a bit in between the rain and thunderstorms, but not nearly enough to satisfy my need to create photos - but it's a start. At least the birds are cooperating!

Is It Spring Yet?

Wow, what CRAZY weather we've been having! From a very heavy snow pack this winter; to about four days of spring-like weather; to high wind, rain, more snow, and flooding. Ahhh, springtime in the Rockies!

Aong the river, the chokecherry trees were in full bloom, until a strong windstorm blew all of the flowers off of the trees, meaning we may not have much in the way of chokecherries this year.

The spring runoff is in full swing, and pushing the capacity of the rivers to the max. Flood stage was reached the middle of last week, and there is no relief in sight. Any warmer weather will cause more snow melt into the already over-swollen waterways, and if it the snow isn't melting it's raining, which is adding more snow in the higher elevations. And even though we're not seeing nearly the devastation that has been occurring in the midwest and south, this is the highest water recorded here in over 40 years.

I walked along the river downtown yesterday; the river has completely engulfed all of the small islands near the Higgins Street Bridge, and all you can see are the tops of the trees. On the pedestrian bridge beneath the Madison Street Bridge, the water is roaring around the abutments and creating some massive wave action on the river, along with some wind gusts of around 20 to 25 miles per hour over the surface of the water. In comparison, there was only a light breeze on the trail alongside the river. And on top of that, there are winter storm warnings in the mountain passes! And June is only two days away. At this rate, autumn will be here before summer...

Closer to home, the Kelly Island Fishing Access about two miles from my house is also closed due to flooding. Not to worry though, as I live on a bench. If MY house floods, someone had better be buidling an ark!

On the flip side, at the Prairie Garden there are blooms everywhere. The Balsamroot has peaked and will most likely be fading soon; the Larkspur, Biscuitroot, Lupine, Long-stemmed Avens and Oregon Grape are going strong. The Yarrow will be blooming soon and the Prickly Pear has buds all over, just waiting to explode with color!

As I was taking photos of the wildflowers, I caught the movement of something large overhead, and looked up to see a Great Blue Heron swooping in, not ten feet over my head! It landed only about 30 feet away, along the bank of a small canal. As we both stood there taking stock of each other, I very slowly closed the distance between us by almost half, taking photos as I went. I was thankful for the adjustable LCD screen on the camera that allowed me to photograph the bird without actually looking at it. I snapped off several photos then turned and walked away, leaving the Heron to go about it's business. But what a treat to be able to get so close to a creature that is normally to skittish to approach.

On the way home I went over Blue Mountain to get more wildflower photos. The white Death Camas is in full bloom, along with the remaining Shooting Stars, Bluebells, Arnica and Yarrow.

Stopped at the river access on Kona Ranch Road. The boat ramp there is flooded and all of the little trees that have been protected from the deer by wire cages are half submerged in the rising water. The river itself in fact, is only about six to eight feet from the underside of the bridge!

I walked along the river, trying to get at least one photo of the elusive Spotted Sandpipers - who were not cooperating at all. I did manage one decent shot from quite a distance away.

I also saw an Osprey flying overhead with a fistfull of sticks, and was tickled to watch it land on the old, original nesting platform and arrange the sticks there. I watched the original pair of Osprey build their nest there over 20 years ago, and every year after that, until they quit returning about four years ago. The nest had been abandoned and the sticks "recycled" by three other pair of the birds nesting nearby. After all, why go out and burn up energy looking for good nesting sticks when there's a readily available supply, there for the taking?