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Mantua and its reservoir in Box Elder
County hosted several uncommonly good birds today. They competed
for top billing in my post's title so I couldn't list them all. The
highlights included a MERLIN, BARROW'S GOLDENEYE, a HORNED GREBE, and GREATER
SCAUP.
The Merlin sat on a low fencepost in the fields
south of the reservoir. She was a Prairie Merlin, the color of
chocolate milk with a few creamy white plumage features. This little gal
offered me several surprises during the sighting. First, that she was there
at all was a surprise. 've seen an amazing number of Merlins this winter
(maybe a dozen?) but none in the last few weeks. I thought perhaps the
Merlin population had pushed north to breeding grounds
already. Today's falcon proved that theory wrong.
The second surprise was that the Merlin looked
somewhat sluggish if one can ever use that word on a falcon. She sat with
her back to me and surveyed the open, brown fields. She looked around
in a slow and measured way as if she wasn't interested in prey. Usually a
hunting Merlin pops its head up and down repeatedly like an agitated
periscope. A hunting Merlin will also swivel its head in short jerky
movements, pop the periscope, and swivel the other way. This Merlin
didn't look as if she was either a fierce predator or interested
in prey. That was it...she wasn't interested
in prey. In fact, she wasn't much interested in
anything.
I stayed inside the truck to use it as a blind, but
was only about 80 yards away (I paced it later). Most Merlins I've seen
won't allow an approach that close unless they're on a tall
perch. As I watched her in the scope I saw
something that utterly flabbergasted me. Zzzzziiiiippppp! Zip! A
rodent that I assume was a vole ran from the base of the Merlin's post and
then out of sight. This animal must have been 3 1/2 feet--max, from
that falcon. I saw the vole zip out again and then amazingly, stop behind
a thin screen of grasses and sit up, snout pointed skyward. No reaction
whatsoever from the Merlin.
The fencepost where she sat was also
topped by a bright orange pea-sized object. I couldn't quite make it out,
but bright orange didn't seem to belong on a gray weathered
post. I looked downwind for wispy feathers that might have been
plucked off a birdy breakfast. Not even one feather clung to the teasel
heads or barbed wire. This was a mystery that needed
solving.
After 20 minutes or so the Merlin flew across the
field in characteristic falcon fashion--dropping low and popping up over
obstacles until I lost sight of her. I walked down a muddy road to her
former perch to see what I could find. The
orange object on top the post was some soft tissue suffused with blood. A fresh,
small bloodstain soaked down the south side of the post. The stain shared
the south side with a neatly arranged set of entrails dripping toward
the ground. Yum, yum. hat Merlin had just eaten breakfast and was
sluggish, taking no interest in the rodent below because she was
replete. The spongy earth around the base of the post was a
labyrinth of vole trails. I looked around and found small tufts of dark
grayish fur tipped in golden-tan. Some of the tufts were still
held together by strips of pliant pink skin. The fur offered another
surprise. Merlins are primarily bird eaters and take their meals on the
wing. They take only a very small number of earth-bound prey
items. This gal was making use of the abundant supply of rodents in the
farm fields and had the luxury of ignoring the hapless one that zipped below her
dining table.
The Mystery of the Slow Merlin (could be a Nancy
Drew book!) was solved and I returned to the reservoir. Two of the first
sightings were of the ever-congenial Mort and Carolyn Somer. The three of
us seem to run into each other while birding more than just chance would
predict. Anyway, together we enjoyed seeing male and female Barrow's
Goldeneyes at the south end of the reservoir and then a Horned Grebe near the
boat ramp. The grebe was several hundred yards off shore and alone. It
had partially developed the strong yellow crown feathers. The grebe also
still showed a dusky whitish/grayish neck so it hasn't yet fully adopted its
alternate plumage.
Later I walked 3/4 of a mile or so along the west
dike to the north end of the reservoir. I wanted to ID the ducks
appearing at the limits of my scope's reach. Most of them were
Redheads and Greater Scaup (20-30), but I also saw an Eared Grebe, several
Lesser Scaup, Canvasbacks, one Ring-necked Duck drake, Mallards, Buffleheads,
Common and Barrow's Goldeneyes, Common Mergansers, and one Red-breasted
Merganser drake.
Seeing the raft of ducks at the north end isn't
easy. Should you attempt to see the Greater Scaup at this location, be
dressed for the weather (I don't care what the temperature was today; the winds
at Mantua made it positively Arctic), be prepared to walk 1-2 miles round trip
along the dike, wear boots for muddy conditions, and expect to peer through
openings in the curtain of trees at water's edge. That's what it took to
get within perhaps 100-150 feet to see these ducks with a
scope. You'll also need to be careful not to alarm the Mallards and
American Coots because they flush easily and then alarm the other
ducks. The Aythya species--both scaup species and the
Canvasbacks--were much more staid.
Other birds in or around the reservoir
today included American Wigeon, just one drake Cinnamon Teal, a pair of
Double-crested Cormorants, Killdeer, Ring-billed Gulls, Red-tailed Hawks,
American Kestrels, a Downy Woodpecker, Northern Flickers, Black-capped
Chickadees, American Robins, Song Sparrows, Red-winged Blackbirds, House
Finches, Pine Siskins, and American Goldfinches.
Kris
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