On The Trails: Spring progresses!

A mountain bluebird male in colorful plumage. (Photo by Gus van Vliet)

By Mary F. Willson

In mid-April I went out on the Airport Dike Trail, hoping to find some fat buds that were loosening up and showing a little green leafiness. Alas, no, too soon for that. My best observation for that walk happened out by the bench.

A little bunch of people with kids and dogs had gathered there, and less than 20 feet from them were some crows. The crows were not begging — two of them were very busy gathering little fluffy bits (dog hair?) and tiny wisps of grass, clearly for lining a nest somewhere. That means they will soon have eggs to tend.  

Our local crows, with a distribution along the coast, were formerly a species known as northwestern crows. But a few years ago, genetic research revealed that they hybridize with the widespread American crow, so for folks that make lists of species, that’s what we have here. But we can still call ‘em northwestern crows if we wish, because they are now a subspecies of the American crow.

Our coastal crows sometimes nest on the ground, but more usually in trees. The female does most of the construction, with the male accompanying her on collecting trips. A typical nest is a fairly bulky thing of sticks, with an egg-cup lined with soft material (moss, hair, fine grasses). Up to six spotted eggs may be laid; incubation may last almost three weeks. The female begins incubation before the clutch is complete, so the eggs don’t all hatch on the same day.

The male brings food to the nest, feeding the attentive female. Chicks stay in the nest four or five weeks before fledging, fed by both parents. Fledglings are fed for several weeks, as they gradually learn to forage for themselves. Offspring from the previous year may help feed the chicks too.

The next day or so, I walked with a friend in the wetland on the other side of the river. The access road to the trailhead was (and has been for a long while) in terrible condition, with lots of bad potholes, making travel very uncomfortable even at five miles an hour. 

A female mountain bluebird in more subdued colors. (Photo by Gus van Vliet)

Nevertheless, parking was crowded, indicating lots of folks and dogs were out there. But the sunshine was glorious and the bird-watching was very satisfactory indeed. First and best were the mountain bluebirds out along the fence-line and nearby trees. Three of them(!!), all males. They often darted down from the posts to pounce on some little prey in the short grasses — in typical bluebird style.  A few days later, females were seen out there too. They nest, uncommonly, in central Alaska and southwestern Yukon, the northern extension of their breeding range.

There were lots of geese and mallards in the slough and nearby meadows, where just a few green shoots of grass were showing. Two eagles perched together in the top of a tall tree, seeming to have a nest there. Short-eared owls gracefully swooped over the meadows, although we did not see them strike. A male harrier was less conspicuous, flying along by the wooded edge of the meadow. Just one robin…and then on our way out we saw a red-shafted flicker that was calling loudly. This is the western version of the northern flicker, nesting occasionally here in Southeast. It is a cavity-nester: both parents excavate the cavity, incubate, and tend the chicks. 

Back at home, I saw a white-crowned sparrow on my deck, very briefly.  A bit later, I saw a yellow-rumped warbler briefly checking out the peanut butter feeder and dashing off for something better. I saw it again, a day or so later, once more checking out the peanut butter feeder, very briefly. This species is usually the first migratory warbler we see in spring. A pair of mallards spent most of a day foraging in the outlet stream from my pond…the pond itself still covered in ice and snow. But clearly those birds are thinking about eggs and chicks to come! And just as I was writing this, a varied thrush landed on my deck railing.

Skunk cabbages are sending up their yellow "spears" of tightly furled inflorescences in several places. Not just in the swamps but also along the road as you drive from downtown out past the high school and beyond. That’s always a good sign of spring developing! Cheers!

• Mary F. Willson is a retired professor of ecology. "On The Trails" appears periodically in the Juneau Independent. For a complete archive of Mary Willson’s “On the Trails” essays, go to https://onthetrailsjuneau.wordpress.com