Utah Bird Sightings

10/05, Kris Purdy is a Lieutenant Colonel in the US Air Force stationed at Hill AFB Base. When she is not actively engaged in protecting us from the bad guys, she enjoys birding. Written descriptions of her birding trips are an experience which everyone can enjoy whether they are a birder or not. Her prose makes such a vivid description of an area that she has visited, that you are easily transported there, so that you are able to visualize through Krises' eyes the scene, as if you were there too. Here is a recent gem from Kris to enjoy: I questioned my sanity as I pulled off I-84 at Ranch Exit 32 at 12:30 this afternoon. I've never heard that Whites Valley is a birding hotspot in October. I was also arriving during the hottest, lowest-bird activity time of the day. I had just driven up from Willard Bay State Park where I didn't see a Phainopepla, but I did see...hee-hee...a Ruffed Grouse, of all unexpected birds. I was in for a few more surprises, indeed.

I hadn't seen one bird after a couple miles of driving slowly and scanning all manner of perches. I finally spotted a Red-tailed Hawk perched on a fence post high up on a golden, rolling hillside. As it turned out, the Red-tailed Hawk was my first and last species today--did anybody else notice the major push of Red-tails along the Wasatch this weekend? Between my first and last hawk, I saw 30 to 40 others. Later in the afternoon, I found them all over the place just south of Hyrum in Cache Valley.

Back to Whites Valley, I was still a mile or two shy of my destination when I stopped to walk through a roadside patch of sagebrush. I hoped to rustle up a few Greater Sage Grouse. It was hot, dry, and still--one of those afternoons when you can smell the dust in the air. The silence was broken by a two-note, scolding "Ch-ch" call. The call was familiar, but my mind refused to put the familiar name of the bird and the call together. There was no way. "Ch-ch...Ch-ch." I followed it through the sagebrush, until I got a little peek at the Ruby-crowned Kinglet actively foraging low and scolding as it hopped from bush to bush. Huh! I might not have believed it if I hadn't seen it. I had just seen many Ruby-Crowned Kinglets foraging and scolding at Willard Bay. The sound was just so out of place in Whites Valley that I had to chase it down to see the bird, instead of believe my ears.

I continued north and finally saw a few American Magpies and Western Meadowlarks. Another surprise was in store for me here. Five Mountain Bluebirds populated the barbed-wire fence. They perched; upright, silent and big-eyed. A brilliant blue male ground-sallied for insects and lifted his catch back to the fence line. I was to see a total of 13 Mountain Bluebirds in Whites Valley this afternoon. In addition to the fence line perch, I also saw them perched on sagebrush and on abandoned farm equipment. I haven't seen other reports of this particular species up there. It's probably the right environment for the bird during migration, but for some reason, seeing the brilliant blue such an arid place surprised me.

As I made the first 90-degree left turn, a covey of 17 Gray Partridge ran out of the weeds along the road and scurried across a field of sparse alfalfa. They stopped to crane their necks and get a good look at me. The bloom of orange on their cheeks made them look flushed, as if embarrassed that I had found them in their hiding place. They alternately ran and stopped to look back at the perceived threat. Looking across the field at them, I was in for another surprise.

An abandoned farm is tucked in the turn of the road I mentioned above. A couple decrepit buildings, many pieces of rusty brown equipment, falling fences and a truck or two complete the picture. One of the buildings is a long-abandoned clapboard house. The white paint is so flaked off and peeling that the gray weathered clapboards show through. The windows must have lost their glass long ago. As I looked past the alfalfa and the scurrying partridge, I could see a long, pale form--thick at the top, slim at the bottom--perched on a peeling green window sash. It was a Barn Owl.

I raised my binoculars toward the window and saw double-decker birds. The Barn Owl perched on the middle of the sash and a magpie perched below the owl on the window sill. Other magpies peered down from the eave. The owl faced into the house, but occasionally turned its heart-shaped, Chinaman face toward the outside. Its tawny wings and back looked as if they were sprinkled with cracked peppercorns. Its wings drooped a bit, to reveal that the wing tips were significantly longer than the perfectly notched tail. The owl's long and drooping primary projection reminded me, oddly enough, of a hummingbird's.

The owl flew out of the window twice and landed on the ground, briefly out of sight. It came up empty-taloned both times. On its second return a passing American Kestrel took notice and veered in toward the green sash, screeching, "Killee! Killee! Killee!". The owl paid no attention. Eventually, it flew inside the house. I repositioned my scope so I could see down the long driveway into an open window. The owl was perched inside the room on top a door that was ajar. It saw me and bobbed its head from side-to-side, Egyptian-like. I doubt this daylight owl considered me as nice a surprise as I did the owl.

The owl sighting represented my last surprise at Whites Valley. However, I still saw a few more nice birdy things. I parked at the final "No Trespassing" sign about 1/2 mile south of the double silos. Here I found two Sharp-tailed Grouse and more Mountain Bluebirds. I watched a first-year Golden Eagle soar in higher and higher circles. A Northern Harrier matched the eagle circle for circle. The harrier was finally close enough to mount its attack and it caused the eagle to flinch from the perfect circle pattern several times. The interaction of the two raptors looked like a fighter aircraft intercepting a bomber. The eagle finally set its wings and beelined away, and the harrier descended to more familiar altitudes.

Whites Valley provided a serendipitous birding day. Whoda thunk I'd see a Ruby-crowned Kinglet in sagebrush, 13 Mountain Bluebirds, and a Barn Owl perched on a window sash in broad daylight? And of course, there was also that Ruffed Grouse at Willard Bay, 35 or so Red-tailed Hawks...and I haven't even begun to describe all the terrific "expected" birds. I guess I'll save all that for some other time.

Kris