Panic at the playa

It was early afternoon in the southern Sulphur Springs Valley, and the last few hundred of Arizona's largest flock of Sandhill Cranes were returning to their roost at the playa lake at Whitewater Draw Wildlife Area after breakfasting on waste grain in nearby farm fields.

Suddenly, chaos erupts as thousands of cranes take to the air in seconds!

Normal crane chatter rises to a deafening clatter as a multitude of voices raise the alarm.

What could have caused this mass hysteria?

The answer comes gliding through, slicing the panicked flock in two: A Golden Eagle, one of the few predators an adult crane has to worry about.

This scene plays out almost every winter day at Whitewater Draw Wildlife Area, one of the lesser-known jewels in Arizona's birding crown.

   

Desert snow

We woke up this morning to this:


After one of the worst "monsoons" on record and a virtually rainless fall, we'll take our precipitation any way we can get it. Melting, it registered .35" - not too bad.

It's the chickens' first snow, so I let them out to scratch around in it.

While supervising their explorations, I noticed that the hummingbird feeder was caked with snow. The feeder went dry while we were away for a few days, and I hadn't seen or heard a hummer since we returned, but I dutifully minced through the slush and brushed the ports clear. I hadn't taken three steps back when a male Anna's appeared out of nowhere.

Within a half hour a female Anna's and a Violet-crowned also came to drink, so I guess they've forgiven us for neglecting them while we were away watching other hummingbirds.

The chickens are only allowed out when we're there to supervise. We love our chickens, but we also love our raptor neighbors and don't want to lead them into temptation. We haven't noticed regular visits from the Cooper's Hawk that used our water feature as her personal spa the last two winters, but the local Red-tail is a proven bird hunter. One morning as I stepped out to check on the chickens, a flutter caught my eye. There was the Red-tail atop a nearby utility pole. Hey, neighbor, I thought. Another flutter, and a double-take: the hawk wasn't alone.

He can have all the pigeons he wants, and I've never caught him eyeing the girls, but better safe than sorry.

 

Welcoming the Cranes

Despite the fact that my birding buddy was still working her way back from Cape May, I headed out to Whitewater Draw to welcome the cranes back to Arizona. Only a couple of weeks ago the skies were full of Swainson’s Hawks headed for Argentina. We saw over 200 one day and the next morning before the thermals began cooking it seemed like every fencepost and utility pole had a hawk awaiting liftoff.


This one was disappointed that he was not allowed to eat before leaving.

As the last of the Swainson’s Hawks (and Turkey Vultures) left, the first few cranes began arriving. I like to think that Siberian-hatched Sandhill Cranes share the same field with Argentine-bound Swainson’s Hawks for a few days in October each year.

At Whitewater Draw Wildlife Area, all the usual suspects were there, including this Barn Owl peeking out from the willows.


I ran into the Wildlife Area manager and he said that there were about 9000 cranes at the roost earlier in the week, about a third of the total expected to arrive. I got to the viewing platform as the first groups began arriving in noisy squadrons from the corn fields where they spent the morning and sat quietly taking photographs. I probably have 2000 crane pictures but they are just too damn photogenic to resist. Actually, I’m still learning a new camera and enjoyed the practice. I can probably put all those boxes of slides in storage and just stick to digital images from now on.

The cranes were so close that along with the constant bugling of the adults and chirping of juveniles, I could hear the flapping of their big wings as they moved about the playa. Suddenly I heard a whoosh like a jet plane overhead and an entire flight of cranes dropped out of the sky as fast as gravity could pull them. I love watching them drop their legs and cup their wings to parachute in, but this was a panic drop down to the water.










So I glance directly overhead and there was the first Golden Eagle of the season, an immature bird hang over my (and the cranes’) head.


Winter in the Sulphur Springs Valley is a wonderful birding experience. Although I miss the hummingbirds and other tropical migrants that brighten our summers, the hawks, eagles, cranes and other birds make up for their absence.

The Four-letter bander's code for Harris Hawk should be HAHA

If I can just hotwire this baby, those jackrabbits won't stand a chance!! (apologies to Gary Larson).

Christmas Bird Count - Quality over Quantity

A Christmas Bird Count is a great way to start the New Year. I've been doing at least one Christmas Bird Count for the last thirty years or so and they are some of my best Christmas memories. In Fort Worth, I did the same territory each year on the Nature Center I managed for 14 years. Although I could have practically stayed in bed and called in the results (after so long 90% of the count was predictable) it was that other 10% that got me out of bed before dawn and out each year.

The Elfrida count was held New Years Day and while the rest of the country nursed hangovers and watched football games, we had a beautiful 60 degree day with bright blue skies to watch birds. To maximize the diversity within mostly agricultural area count area, our 15 mile diameter circle includes the foothills of the Swisshelm Mountains in an area known as “The Granites”. Sheri and I decided to cover “The Granites” since it required a high clearance vehicle to access the area. We had never birded the area before and didn’t really know what to expect, but we had a great time. We did find some mountain birds (Rock Wren, Canyon Wren, Black-chinned Sparrow) to fill out the count list, but the list total is soon forgotten except by the numbers-crunchers that will analyze population trends. What I will remember of this count are the spectacular views, a small troop of coatis playing hide and seek in the rocks and the caterwauling of a bobcat in heat echoing off the canyon walls. The rock slabs are pockmarked with "bedrock mortars", deep depressions left by grinding stones used by Apaches and others to grind acorns for flour. It's easy to imagine a group of Apaches sitting on these rocks and talking as they worked to process the acorn harvest.

In the flats we found a family of Harris’ Hawks in hot pursuit of a jackrabbit. The five hawks had the frantic hare surrounded at one point but he managed to elude them eventually, showing that not all the broken field running on Sunday was on the football field. Harris Hawks are the only raptor that hunts cooperatively like a pack of wolves and are always a treat to find. We’ve been watching this clan for years and feel like they are old friends. A fine way to spend the holiday.