On The Trails: Swifts, toads, and others

A flying swift, probably Vaux's swift. That name is pronounced "vawks," despite its French origin. (Photo by Mary F. Willson)

By Mary F. Willson

Here in Southeast, two species of swift reach the northern extent of their breeding range, although they are not common here.

The bigger, black swift nests behind waterfalls and in caves; the smaller Vaux’s swift nests in hollow trees and old chimneys. They feed on the wing, on insects, and often appear to fly with alternate wingbeats (but that is an illusion). A friend and I recently saw several swifts flying over Kingfisher Pond, but we seem to disagree about their ID. 

A female red-winged blackbird was clearly interested in nest-building. She carried wisps of grass to a certain spot on the small grassy/sedgy island (not far from the viewing platform) where this species often nests. Then she fussed about, working those wisps into the substrate, as she would do when nest-building. But the tall grasses or sedges that comprise the island were still far too short (maybe eight inches tall) to provide good nest cover. With patience, she may succeed.

A female mountain bluebird was very active at the pond, flying here and there, sometimes dropping to the flattened vegetation at ground level in pursuit of some insect. She was here by herself, a couple of weeks after others of that species had left the wetlands.

On a cool day, western toads are scattered around in the pond, with just their eyeballs showing, waiting for warmer weather and mating opportunities. (Photo by Dave Harris)

There were lots of yellow-rumped warblers actively foraging--nabbing insects in flight and from the vegetation. I’ve been seeing many of this species at my feeders, where they seem to love peanut butter but also visit the hummingbird nectar feeder. A friend also reports that they come to a nectar feeder, and so does an orange-crowned warbler.

At two different spots along the trail, we found broken, white eggshells, with runny yolk still dribbling out. They were bigger than chicken eggs, and they were almost round. Whose eggs?? And what predator stole those eggs, leaving only the broken shells? 

The next day, I went with another friend to Fish Creek. Reliable reports of toad activity told of great toad excitement on warm sunny afternoons. Of course, when I managed to get there, it was a chilly, drippy morning. Nevertheless, we could spot many toads scattered around in the pond, just their eyeballs showing above the water. The toads were zipping here and there, calling.

Occasionally I saw what looked to be attempted amplexus. Toads mate in a characteristic arrangement called amplexus: a male gets on a female’s back, clasping her around the waist; when they get synchronized, she releases eggs and he releases sperm at the same time, fertilizing the eggs. Sometimes, an excited male attempts amplexus with another male. On this day, one toad scrambled onto the back of another. But that didn’t last very long at all; either the scrambler, presumed to be male, gave up or the accosted individual (presumed to be female, but possibly another male) rejected him quickly. They’ll get it on when it’s warmer.

When it warms up, toads can mate. This pair is in amplexus, with the male on the back of the female. (Photo by Dave Harris)

When they have finished with all the reproductive activity and laid their eggs, the adult toads will go back on land for the rest of the year. They wander around the woods, eating insects, spiders, and worms. Come winter, they’ll hibernate underground somewhere, burrowing down to get a protective layer of soil above them. 

A recent trip toward the glacier revealed numerous buses of all sizes and monstrous crowds of people. Going around the trail of time, however, was quite peaceful. I went just as far as the first bridge, hoping to see or hear a dipper. Oh luck! Peering through the branches, I could see one standing watch on a rock below the cliffs where they have often nested. Hurray! Let’s hope for a successful nesting.

There’s a visual treat along many roadways: skunk cabbages are in flower now and big stands of their bright yellow inflorescences decorate the view.  A seasonal treat to be enjoyed!  

• 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