2024 Archives - Page 3 of 4

The overall population of ground nesting birds is steadily going down. Here in North America, we have hundreds of bird species who nest directly on the ground. Prairie birds such as Eastern and Western Meadowlarks are a good example. If you are older than 50 you most likely remember hearing meadowlarks growing up but today, you don’t, because of the population of meadowlarks has dramatically declined. Meadowlarks are a ground nesting bird.

Other ground nesting prairie birds such as Bobolinks and Dickcissels are also on the decrease. These birds were once very common and abundant, however our current day agricultural practices, which in an attempt to squeeze every dollar from every inch of land, has led to a dramatic decline in their populations.

So, with this in mind, I was thrilled to have a friend tell me he had found a particular ground nesting bird that I had only once before had a chance to study and capture some images. This ground nesting bird is the Horned Lark (Eremophila alpestris). The Horned Lark is a member of the lark family and is found around the world in the northern hemisphere. It is our only true “lark” species in North America.

By all reports, the Horned Lark is classified as a “common bird in steep decline” just like all other ground nesting birds. The decline is attributed to loss of habitat, agricultural pesticides, early mowing or haying fields and roadside ditches, urbanization, human encroachment, and worst of all collisions with wind turbines. The Horned Lark is one of the species that has been impacted the most by the proliferation of wind turbines.

The name “horned” comes from a set of black feathers on the sides of the birds head that look like horns. The female also has them, but they are much less pronounced. Both the male and female are overall pale brown and grey with the male having a bold black and yellow face. The female is much duller. They have a black tail that really helps when you are trying to identify this bird when it is flying away from you.

The female builds the nest by first making a shallow depression in the ground. She then uses dried grass to weave a soft nest. After mating the female will lay 2-5 brown eggs with dark spots. They are one of the earliest ground nesting birds in the northern states. It is not uncommon for the pair to be done with their first brood by the end of April. This means sometimes the female gets covered in snow while incubating her eggs in some years.

So, when my friend told me about the Horned Lark nest, I jumped at the opportunity to capture some images and video. We picked a day when the sky was cloudy to give us even light on the subject. It is very important to not disturb nesting birds or to draw unwanted attention to the nest sight. Using camouflage covering to conceal ourselves and camera gear also helps.

So, when we approached the nest, I made sure we stayed far away and used my longest lens. Using a long lens is important to be able to capture natural behaviors and not disturb the birds. The parents were busy gathering insects in the surrounding fields. While the adults are out looking for insects the babies are perfectly camouflaged and remain motionless in the nest.

However, when one of the adults returns to the nest, in a blink of an eye, the babies pop up their heads, open their mouths wide, and start begging to be fed. It was amazing to spend some quality time with this nesting pair of Horned Larks and watch as they gather several insects in their bills and fly near the nest. They would carefully look around making sure there was no danger and slowly the parents would approach the nest on foot. As soon as the adults arrived at the edge of the nest the babies would again all pop up simultaneously to be fed.

After hatching, the young stay in the nest only 8 or so days before they leave the nest and start to walk around. The adults follow the young around and continue to feed them until they are able to fly. Even after they fly the male will continue to feed while the female builds a new nest, and the entire process starts over. Until next time…

Stan Tekiela is an author / naturalist and wildlife photographer who travels extensively to study and capture images of wildlife. He can be followed at www.instagram.com and www.facebook.com. He can be contacted at his website www.naturesmart.com.

The rights of spring come in many different forms, shapes, colors, and patterns. But the end goal is always exactly the same—reproduction. In nature, everything can be boiled down to one of two things, finding food to survive and mating for reproduction. It’s as simple as that.

So, this spring I have been out capturing images of a couple different species of grouse. In my last column I wrote about the Greater Prairie Chicken, a species of bird that was once widespread and numbered in the millions and is now barely hanging on and extinct in much of its former range. This time I am looking at the Sharp-tailed Grouse.

Once again, I found myself getting up at 4 am, packing up what I will need for the morning and heading out to my old truck in the dark. A short drive later, I arrived at the location where I would find the second grouse species of the spring. When I opened my truck door, I could immediately hear several male Sharp-tailed Grouse (Tympanuchus phasianellus) calling in the dark.

This time I packed up two long lenses, a 600 mm prime lens and a 100-500 mm zoom lens. With these large and heavy lenses, I definitely needed a tripod to hold them up while capturing images and video. I also grabbed my small single person photo blind which has a chair built into it. With this blind, I can pop it up and get inside in less than one minute. This is critical to causing minimal disturbance to the birds.

After a short walk, I arrived at the location. I needed to assess approximately where the sun would be rising so I could place my chair blind in the best location with the sun at my back. This will provide the best light on the dancing grouse when the sun rises. Working quickly, I set up the chair blind and set up the tripod and mounted the 600 mm lens and camera.

I covered up and waited in the dark for the birds to arrive and the sun to rise. Within one minute I could hear and start to see the first of the Sharp-tailed Grouse walking and flying up to the dancing ground. The dancing ground, also called a lek, is typically made up of short grass vegetation. A lek is a communal area in which two or more males will gather and perform a courtship display. This isn’t limited to grouse species. Many species of birds, insects and mammals use a lekking performance area when it comes to mating. The grouse are just the most well-known species for using a lek.

By the way, the work lek, is commonly used in biology. The origin of the word is believed to come from Swedish (lekstalle) and loosely translates to mating game, or to frolic, fight or play and was first used as a noun in 1867. This perfectly describes what is going on at these traditional displaying grounds.

A lek is used for many years, often decades, but the longevity of a lek is completely dependent upon the vegetation that is growing at the lek. When woody shrubs or trees such as aspen move into a lek, the birds often abandon it in favor of a new lek with short grass vegetation only.

On this particular morning, I counted 25 male Sharp-tailed Grouse that came to display on the lek. The males would pair up and face off. Within the lek are micro territories with the most dominant male at the center and satellite males surrounding the dominant one. The least dominant males are on the outer edge of the circle.

The most complex and fascinating of the males display is the “tail rattling” or dancing display. Each male leans forward and lifts a set of feathers on its neck to expose a pinkish to purple patch of skin. It cocks its tail feathers upwards, with the undertail feathers, called tail coverts, exposed and for maximum visibility. The male then starts a series of rapid short steps, about 18 to 20 per second, causing him to move forward in a curving or arching direction. At the same time, the male vibrates its tail, producing a clicking or rattling sound with an associated scraping noise created by scraping overlapping tail feathers. It sounds like a baby rattle. The best part of this is, all the males perform this stepping and tail rattling display at the same time, so what you see is what looks like a bunch of windup toy birds spinning in circles and at the same time it sounds like a snake pit filled with rattle snakes.

For the next 3 hours I sat in my blind capturing images and video of these amazing birds, all along marveling at the intricacies of their behaviors while capturing the strength and beauty of the amazing Sharp-tailed Grouse. Until next time…

Stan Tekiela is an author/naturalist and wildlife photographer who travels extensively to capture images of wildlife. He can be followed on www.instagram.com and www.facebook.com. He can be contacted via his website at www.naturesmart.com.

I love the diversity found within nature. I also really love the nature rule breakers. You know, the critters that don’t seem to follow the rules that we people think nature should follow. So last week while leading a photo workshop to photograph Black Bears in northern Minnesota I was reminded once again that nature exemplifies the diversity in nature.

My small group of photographers were following a female Black Bear with two yearling cubs. The bears were walking through a wetland area with a few fallen trees and a couple of high spots that were dry and covered with green grasses. As we moved closer, I could see a fairly large bird fly out of one of the high spots and land about 5 yards away right out in the open.

Here in the Northwoods, there is only a handful of bird species that it could be, this deep into the woods. The habitat is mixed conifer and deciduous trees with a small stream and associated wetlands. The long winters, and short but hot and buggy summers, really define this habitat.

Looking over to the last spot I saw the bird land I could clearly see it was a shorebird. Its long legs and long beak offset by a large, full body told me it definitely was a Solitary Sandpiper (Tringa solitaria). Yep, you read that correctly, a sandpiper deep in the Northwoods. How crazy is that?

When you think of sandpipers you automatically think of the ocean or some sandy beach shore. Or perhaps a freshwater lake or something along those lines. You definitely don’t think deep northern conifer woods filled with Black Bears and Bobcats.

As its name implies, the Solitary Sandpiper is usually seen alone, even during migration. Although sometimes it can be seen in small congregations of less than 10. It is definitely a freshwater bird that even uses freshwater during winter. It winters in Central and South America, especially in the Amazon River basin where fresh water is abundant. And because of this, there haven’t been many studies done on this species. There is much that isn’t known about this bird.

These Northwoods Sandpipers have an interesting habit of bobbing their tail and back half of its body while it is feeding. They hang out in wooded swamps, along small woodland streams, ditches or flooded fields.

Nesting is where the Solitary Sandpiper really stands out among the other sandpipers. There are about 85 different kinds of sandpipers, but it’s the Solitary that doesn’t nest on the ground like the others. Instead, the male finds the old nests of other birds such as American Robins, Rusty Blackbirds and Canada Jays. Females will make the final selection and then she will remove some of the interior lining of the old used nest and replace it with fresh plant materials before laying her eggs.

The old nests are usually located near the trunk of the tree and only 6 to 8 feet off the ground. So not only is this sandpiper found in the Northwoods and not at the shore, but it is also nesting up in trees using other bird species old nests and not on the ground like other shorebirds. How much crazier can this bird get?

So now you know why I was so distracted from the Black Bears when this bird popped up in front of us. Of course, the others in my group really didn’t care about this strange bird in the Northwoods, but only because they didn’t understand how different and cool this shorebird was compared to other shorebirds.

The Solitary Sandpiper was first described in the early 1800’s by ornithologists but it wasn’t until the early 1900’s was their nesting activity discovered. So, it took nearly 100 years before it was discovered just how unusual the nesting behavior of this rather unique bird.

Over 90 percent of the global population of the Solitary Sandpiper breeds in the boreal or Northwoods of North America. Most of this is in Alaska, Canada, and Labrador. In the lower 48 states it only nests in northern Minnesota. I think now you can see why I was so happy to get a chance to see and capture some images of this very unusual sandpiper. Until next time…

Stan Tekiela is an author / naturalist and wildlife photographer who travels extensively to study and capture images of wildlife. He can be followed at www.instagram .com and www.facebookcom. He can be contacted via his webpage at www.naturesmart.com.

Nature never stops to amaze me! After 40 years of field work, capturing events and species in nature with my camera and audio recordings, it is tempting to think you have seen it all or worse yet, know it all. But Mother Nature is always showing me that no one person can know it all or have seen or experienced everything. Understanding that Mother Nature is too complicated and diverse to ever completely understand is the first step to having a deeper understanding of nature.

For over 20 years I have been spending upwards of 4 weeks straight on my boat photographing and studying the nesting, egg laying, chick hatching and raising of Common Loon babies. I log countless hours on the water with about a dozen nesting pairs of loons, so it is tempting to feel like I have seen it all. That was until last week.

The Common Loon (Gavia immer) is a large aquatic bird and is a symbol of the Northwoods and lakes of some northern states such as Minnesota, Wisconsin, Michigan, New York, Vermont and Maine. The adults in breeding plumage are a stunning black and white combination that shines an iridescent green or blue when seen in direct sunlight. The males and females have the same plumage and are often difficult to tell apart. The male is anywhere from 10-20 percent larger than the female. The male has a larger, more squared off head and a thicker/heavier bill than the female. Sometimes it is so difficult to tell them apart you need to see the two adults sitting side by side in order to perceive the differences.

Loons return to the lakes they were hatched or to where they were successful in nesting the year before. Courtship between the pair is subtle, without any exaggerated activities. The female chooses the nest site. The nest is often on the edge of the shoreline, usually in thick vegetation. A pile of last year’s aquatic vegetation serves as the nest site.

It is not uncommon for loons to nest on small islands or to take advantage of human-made nesting platforms. Amazingly these human-made floating platforms are preferred over natural shoreline nesting locations.

The Common Loon only nests once per season. They lay only 2 eggs, which they incubate for nearly a month. As soon as the chicks hatch, they leave the nest and are swimming around with the parents. So, it is typical to see a pair of loons with 2 tiny chicks. The babies are so small and are often prayed upon by predators such as Snapping Turtles, Muskie, Northern Pike and even Bald Eagles. About two or three weeks after the young hatch, it is very common to see adults with just one chick.

About 50 percent of the hatchlings will make it to one year of age. That is about average and works out mathematically in the long run considering how long the adults will live and how many times they will reproduce in their lifetime.

Over the decades I have seen loon chicks get separated from their parents. This is often a very difficult event to watch. Many times, the lost young will take up with another family of loons. The adults take in the lost youngster and feed it just like their own. However, the offspring of the adults often don’t accept the lost youngster and usually peck at the newcomer causing it to stay on the periphery of the family unit. There is often a noticeable size difference between the lost chick and the adopted family chicks. Either larger or smaller. I see this happen every other year or so. But in the end, it usually works out.

The other morning, I was out with a small group of photographers on the boat when we came across something I had never seen before. There was a pair of loons with four tiny chicks, all the same size. At first, I thought it was another orphaned chick scenario, except this time it was two chicks. But over the next couple of days, I continued to watch this family of 6 and could see that all four chicks where the same size and there was no aggression between the sibling, like I have seen so many other times in the past.

Without any genetic evidence to back it up, I assumed this pair of adult loons laid four eggs and successfully hatch and is now raising all four chicks. I have done some basic research, and it appears four chicks has happened in the past but is incredibly uncommon.

Just when you think you know something for sure, Mother Nature points out that she still has many sides and can still surprise. Until next time…

Stan Tekiela is an author / naturalist and wildlife photographer who travels extensively to study and capture images of wildlife. He can be followed on Instagram.com and facebook.com. He can be contacted via his website at www.naturesmart.com

I find it strangely comforting that there is still many things we don’t understand in nature. I’m not sure if it is a good thing or a bad thing. And perhaps it is just the way it is, and we will never understand. We often make assumptions about the kinds of behaviors we see or witness in nature. We often incorrectly attribute a specific animal behavior based on what we humans would think or do in a given situation.

I was thinking about this the other evening while leading a group of photographers to capture images of the Common Loon (Gavia immer). Each June I offer photo tours for serious amateur and professional photographers to see and capture images of loons and their families. In particular adult loons with baby loons riding on their backs. During these photo tours I help with camera settings, lighting, angles of photography but most of all, I explain the behaviors and natural history of these amazing birds.

For example, when a male loon is swimming around its territory, taking care of its babies, sees another loon flying over its territory, he belts out a loud “yodel” call that echoes across the lake. I explain that only the males make this call. This can be one way to tell the males from the females.

It is very common for loons to go for a “fly about” early in the morning or late in the day just before sunset. One evening we were photographing a male loon with one chick. The water was calm, and the group was capturing some great images when I noticed a pair of loons flying towards us. I let the group know and we all got ready to try and capture some images of flying loons.

But when the two flying loons got close to us, they did something that I have seen many times before, but I still can’t figure it out. The two birds moved closer together, while flying, almost touching, and then started to glide with their wings held over their backs in a deep V shape.

They flew together in this highly stylized glide for a long distance. Like I said, I have seen this many times before and naturally I thought it might have something to do with a mated pair reestablishing their pair bond. I pointed out this stylized gliding behavior to the group, who all thought it was super cool to see, but I lacked any evidence based or study-based explanation of this natural behavior.

We watched as the pair glided along for a long distance then broke apart. One of the loons continued flying straight ahead and up and over the tree line. The other loon banked sharply and was heading straight for us. It landed near us and immediately started swimming towards the male loon and the chick we were photographing. Clearly it was the female mate of the male we were working to capture images. She was out flying around and gliding with another loon.

Giving it some thought I knew the stylized gliding wasn’t a pair bond thing, because clearly the female wasn’t flying with its mate but another loon. Could this be aggression displayed in flight? Could it be something just fun to do? There were so many questions.

Later I spent some time trying to research the stylized gliding behavior and wasn’t able to come up with any explanation. I did find all sorts of webpages that falsely claimed that loons need to continually flap their wings because they are not able to glide or soar, but nothing addressed the gliding behavior. Some webpages described the gliding behavior but offered no evidence based to explain what was going on.

So, there you have it. Another animal behavior that goes unexplained and not understood. The point is, there is so much going on in nature that isn’t understood. Much of nature is still a complete mystery to those of us who have spent an entire career trying to learn, understand and help educate about it. Until next time…

Stan Tekiela is an author / naturalist and wildlife camera man who travels extensively to study and capture images and video of wildlife. He can be followed at www.facebook.com and www.instagram.com. He can be contacted via his website at www.naturesmart.com.

We people love to group, label, and pigeon-hole what we see and experience around us in nature. I believe it helps us to understand and organize in our brains the vast number of species that we share the planet with. But like most things, we often take labeling and grouping a little too far from time to time. It is in our nature to do these kinds of things.

I was thinking about this the other day while photographing a cool little bird that I don’t see very often. While driving through a wildlife refuge with a couple other photographers I could clearly hear the song of a Dickcissel. Yes, you read that correctly and no I didn’t misspell the name of this bird.

The Dickcissel (Spiza americana) is a sparrow sized bird that is in the Cardinal family (Cardinalidae). However, this bird has given taxonomists a challenge in determining its closest relatives. In the past it was grouped into the New World Sparrows and later moved into the Blackbird family. For now, it seems to have found a home being grouped into the Buntings, which is a type of Cardinal.

Its common name comes from the loud and clear song that the male sings while perched at the top of any small tree, shrub, fence post or even a tall weed stalk. The male repeats a song that sounds like “See-see – dick, dick, cissel, cissel” hence the common name “Dick Cissel”.

These birds are erratic wanderers. This means that large flocks of Dickcissels move across the middle of the North American continent and show up in different regions or places each year. Some years you will see Dickcissels all over the place and other years none at all. They prefer pastures, fields, prairies, and other open habitats such as savannahs.

They migrate by the hundreds and thousands after spending their winters in Central America (northern Venezuela and northern Colombia). No matter what habitat or what part of the country they show up in, the males locate an obvious perch and belts out his territorial song. This song is loud, crisp and clear. He sings from late spring into early summer. The song will establish his territory and attract a mate. This is the best and easiest way to identify the Dickcissel.

Similar to other buntings, the Dickcissel feeds on the ground eating mainly small insects and seeds. Outside of the nesting season, when they are in large migratory flocks, they feed in agricultural fields on any spilled grain or descend upon a field of grain that hasn’t been harvested. This is why farmers tend to not like this bird. But they are doing what they need to do, just to survive.

The Dickcissel is a very interesting looking bird. It is often described as a conglomeration of several other birds smashed into this one dynamic songster. He has a lemon-yellow chest that streaks down into the center of the belly. He has a black bib under his chin. The bib is outlined in white which makes it really stand out. The male has a yellow and white line that runs through the eye. But it’s the males back that really stands out. It is a warm rusty brown. Some people describe this bird as a mini version of the Meadowlark. It has a large gray bill that is easy to see, especially when the male is singing. The female is a duller version of the male.

So, the other day, I was delighted when we heard a male Dickcissel singing while driving through the refuge. I pulled over my truck and we all got out, trying to not to move in a way that would scare the bird. We all captured a few distant images before we started moving forward.

The ground was covered in Poison Ivy, making the trek out into the prairie very challenging. Finding our way through the Poison Ivy while keeping an eye on the bird wasn’t easy but eventually, we got close enough to capture some stunning images using very long lenses, and yet not disturb the bird. We turned and made our way back to the road, all the while talking about how cool this bird is and how we don’t see it very often. Until next time…

Stan Tekiela is an author / naturalist and wildlife photographer who travels extensively to capture images of wildlife. He can be followed on www.instagram.com and www.facebook.com. He can be contacted at his website www.naturesmart.com.

We people love to assign blame or shame no matter the situation. For some crazy reason this translates over to our view of nature. There are a number of species that people don’t seem to like at all, based on nothing other than our desire to assign blame. The Double-crested Cormorant (Nannopterum auritum) is a classic example of a species of bird that people don’t like and have piled on a heap of blame upon.

These birds have been vilified and persecuted by people going back hundreds of years. For example, Elizabeth the First, the Queen of England, in the late 1500’s declared this bird to be a pest and put out a bounty on cormorants. She said they were pests and needed to be eliminated.

To add to this, many books, movies, and poems all depict the cormorant as a bad bird and many associated it with the devil. With this kind of bad press, you can see why this bird is hated even by those who don’t know anything about it. So, let’s learn a few things about the cormorant.

There are many different species of cormorant, approximately 40 in the world. The most common in North America is the Double-crested Cormorant so let’s learn about this one. The Double-crested Cormorant is a large, all black waterbird, with large, webbed feet and an impressively large, hooked bill. They are only about 2-5 pounds. They have a yellow patch of skin under their lower bill, called gular skin. They have sparkling blue eyes and lining of their mouth, which isn’t very common in birds.

The common name “Double-crested” refers to special feathers on either side of their head that can stand up and away from the head, so it looks like they have two crests. They don’t display these crests very often, so most people never see it, which also contributes to the misunderstanding of this bird.

They have relatively short wings, but they are still very strong flyers. Their bill is long and thin and a strong down-curving tip, call the nail. They use their bill to catch fish underwater. They use their large, webbed feet to propel them through the water, leaving their wings folded at their sides. So they don’t “fly” through the water. They are true swimmers.

After spending time under water, the cormorant often sits out in the sun to dry out. Cormorant feathers, more specifically the contour feathers that cover the bird’s body, are different from other birds. At the base of the feather the structure is tight and repels water, but the outer part of the feather is open and absorbs water, rather than shedding it, like other bird’s feathers. So, part of the feather gets waterlogged. This helps the bird stay underwater with less effort, allows it to be more agile and increases maneuverability. After all they need to overtake fish underwater to catch something to eat.

In the past it was assumed that the cormorants didn’t have the oil producing gland near the base of their tail, called the preening gland. The oil excreted from the gland was believed to give birds their waterproofness. Now we know that it is the feather structure that makes a bird waterproof. Recent studies show that cormorants do have the preening gland and it’s fully functional. So once again we were wrong after making assumptions when we see bird behaviors.

More recent studies show that birds who are “sunny” themselves, might be doing more than just drying feathers. There is some evidence that the birds are using the sun to raise their body temperatures and thus increase their digestion rate. Others suggest that the increased UV light from the sun helps them break down and digest their food. Whatever the reason, I am hoping we have learned that making quick assumptions or playing the quick blame game is often proved to be wrong. Until next time…

Going to Arizona in the middle of summer doesn’t seem like a smart thing to do. The heat can be stifling and pushes any wildlife to be active only during the early mornings before the sun comes up or late in the day at sunset. The middle of the day most wildlife lays low and tries to stay out of the heat.

Most days the skies start out clear and the sun shines. By the afternoon, the heat of the sun produces a lot of cumulous clouds. These are the tall billowing clouds that can produce thunderstorms that often dump large amounts of rain and spit out bolts of lightning.

I was in Arizona to give a couple presentations at the Sedona Hummingbird Festival. The festival featured speakers and activities centered around the abundant hummingbirds that inhabit Arizona. I figured while I was there, I would spend a little time exploring several favorite places around the state and look for some wildlife.

Arizona has a number of mountain ranges running through the state. The higher elevations are a great place to seek some cooler temperatures and therefore some active wildlife. So, one day we drove up into a nearby mountain canyon. Driving up the winding road, we slowly gained elevation and as a result the habitat changed from shrubs and bushes to sporadic trees. The scattered trees turned into a full-fledged forest with taller trees. We stopped round 5,000-foot elevation and got out to see what we could find. We had met up with a friend who told us a very uncommon bird had been heard calling nearby so we decided to try and find it.

Scrambling up a small, dry stream bed, being careful to watch out for rattlesnakes, we could hear the bird calling off in the distance. Just five minutes later we found the bird. Perched on a open branch sat a male Elegant Trogon (Trogon elegans). He was calling over and over again in a loud raspy, grunting call. The call is more of a bark than something a bird would make.

The Elegant Trogon is a tropical looking bird, about 12 inches long, with a deep green hood, white chest band and a red belly. The back and tail are an iridescent green. The tail is extra-long and squared off at the end. It has a large dull-yellow bill that it uses to crack open fruit and seeds. They also eat a wide variety of insects.

This bird is normally found in the mountains of Mexico and Central America. There is a very small population that extends up into the far southeastern corner of Arizona. They breed in just four mountain ranges in the region, and this location is one of the spots in the U.S. that you can see such a magnificent bird. Total population in the U.S. is estimated to be about 200 total birds. I don’t think I need to tell you that, 200 isn’t very much.

The Elegant Trogon prefers dry arid woodlands with oaks and juniper. They are often associated with streams cascading down mountain sides. They are short distant migrators with the main population of the Elegant Trogons found in Mexico and parts of Central America. The birds found in Arizona migrate up in the spring to breed then migrate back to Mexico for the winter.

I know of many groups of birders and photographers who travel from all over the U.S. just to see this bird. It is definitely one of the most sought-after birds by birdwatchers to see and photograph. So, we really couldn’t believe our eyes that after just a short hike we successfully found and were able to capture some great images of this most amazing looking bird. For the next 25 to 30 minutes, we followed the bird around as it moved from perch to perch. We were able to capture a number of wonderful pictures. Afterwords, we hiked back down to our car all along exclaiming how amazed we were to be so lucky to not only find the bird but also capture some images. Until next time…

Stan Tekiela is an author / naturalist and wildlife photographer who travels extensively to capture images of wildlife. He can be followed at www.instagram.com and www.facebook.com. He can be contacted via his website www.naturesmart.com.

It has been 17 years since I last wrote about the largest bird in North America. A bird that was almost killed off and is being brought back from the brink of extinction through some heroic captive breeding and reintroduction efforts.

The California Condor (Gymnogyps californianus) is a New World vulture, which means this bird isn’t related to the vultures found in Africa and Europe. It is the only surviving member of the genus Gymnogyps. There were at least 4 other similar species in the past, all of which are now extinct. The California Condor is listed as critically endangered by the International Union for the Conservation of Nature.

California Condor populations dropped dramatically during the 20^th century due to a variety of outside pressures such as agricultural chemicals (DDT), illegal shooting, and habitat destruction. Of course, all these reasons are human related pressures. So, it made sense that humans do something about it to help bring back the condor. In 1987 and with less than 25 individual condors left in the wild, all of these remaining birds where captured and brought into captive breeding programs at the San Diego Wild Animal Park and the Los Angeles Zoo.

These birds reproduce with just a single chick every two years so growing the population will take some time. The first birds released back into the wild was in 1991. They continued to release birds into the wild over the past couple decades. As of May 2024, there is an estimated population of 561 birds. This still makes the California Condor one of the rarest birds in America. In addition, since they started with so few birds, the genetic gene pool was very limited. Only time will tell if this genetic bottleneck will be an obstacle for these birds.

In 2007 I wrote a series of articles focused on a wide variety of endangered species such as the Whooping Crane, Black-footed Ferret and of course the California Condor. It is amazing that all of these had a very similar story. Each was nearly killed off by humans and their populations dwindled to around 20 total individuals. All of these animals needed to be brought into captive breeding programs to save them from ourselves. Each species still struggles today but is slowly establishing themselves back into the wild.

All of this was racing through my head last week while I was in northern Arizona to check in on the condors. These huge birds once ranged all across North America thousands of years ago. However, after the last glacial period about 10,000 years ago, the condors where restricted to the west coast of the United States.

In my first evening looking for the condors, I had about a 4-hour drive to get near the north rim of the Grand Canyon. By the time I arrived in the location where I hoped to see a condor, it was already past sunset so there wasn’t any option to capture any images. I headed to a nearby town to catch a hotel room and get ready for the morning.

I got up early and slammed down breakfast so I can get out early before the day heated up too much and the birds become less active. I packed up some lunch because I knew it was going to be a very long day. I drove to a location where a number of condors like to roost overnight. The goal was to arrive before the over-night roosting condors flew off to find food during the day.

Upon arrival I could see 2 condors, but both weren’t in a position to capture some quality images, so I set up my camera gear and got comfortable. I knew I might be in for a very long wait. Hours passed and still the birds hadn’t moved. Several times I got distracted by a beaver that was swimming up the Colorado River. Then, while I was just standing there daydreaming, I saw one condor lunge towards the other in an aggressive manor. The condor that was “attacked” launched off its perch and started to fly. The condor flew directly towards me but was about 100 feet below where I was standing. Its 10 foot wing span was impressive to see.

I managed to capture a few unique images as the bird flew below my position and then landed on the opposite side of the canyon. After it landed, I got a few more images before it stepped into a narrow gap in the canyon wall and disappeared. Mission accomplished; I was so happy to capture a few images of one of the most endangered bird species in America. Until next time…

Stan Tekiela is a naturalist / author and wildlife photographer who travels extensively to study and capture images of wildlife. He can be followed on www.instagram.com and www.facebook.com. He can be contacted via his website at www.naturesmart.com.