|
Alpenglow might be defined as that reddish-purple
light on the mountains just before sunrise or after sunset, but I believe I'm
radiating a little alpenglow of my own after a rewarding birding trip
above Alta yesterday. I birded Albion Basin Campground and along the
trail to Cecret Lake from about 10:00 to 4:00. I saw the penthouse
species--those birds that inhabit the higher-elevation locales. I
found the most activity at Albion Basin campsites.
The chipmunks were noisy when I arrived and
throughout the day. They zoomed around the campsites like miniature
remote-controlled racecars with flags up. Soon I began to hear Mountain
Chickadees and Red-breasted Nuthatches. I took a strategic position
under a fir to provide any curious birds a perch, and I started to
pish. They were quite interested. At least a dozen Mountain
Chickadees and a pair of Red-breasted Nuthatches sought me out. All these
birds were on the move constantly within 20 feet and I can't honestly say
how many there were. I was still-still-still, looking straight up, pishing
and developing a good case of warbler neck. All sorts of idle
thoughts occur in these moments...I hoped my husband would lend me his Ben-Gay
for my neck when I arrived home. Several chickadees and one nuthatch
hopped lower and lower in the tree until they were right above my head. I
thought their next move would be to land on my hat. I could have reached
out and touched them--my arm is 28 inches from shoulder to finger tip and that's
how far away both species were. I wished I had a handful of sunflower
seeds to offer them a reward for their bravery. They stayed for a little
while, looking at me with intensely black eyes, and twitching tails from
side-to-side. One of the chickadees had a very white forehead and the
Red-breasted Nuthatches, especially the males, are in strong, fresh fall
plumage.
I later watched a male nuthatch forage and
stash pinenuts. He picked up an oblong pinenut in the tip of his beak
that was exactly the same color as his rusty breast. He found a crack in a
trunk, and hammered and hammered away until the nut was no longer visible.
I saw him do this a time or two. He also chased a female away from
his cache.
Several Pine Grosbeaks played a game of Blind Man's
Bluff with me and it was maddening, because I'm the one who was
blindfolded! The Pine Grosbeak's call is a short series of warbled notes
all jammed together that spills out quickly and abruptly. I heard their
call from high on top of spruce turrets and from high
within trees as well. "Chur-dih-le!" "Chur-dih-le,
chur-dih-le!" Always, just as I was turning around two or three of them
would dash out of a fir and become a gray beeline through trees and out of
sight. I eventually got good looks at both russett and
gray-green females. I also finally saw one quiet bird perched
back-to-me at the top of a fir at the Superior Chair Lift. I believe
this was a female as well. She was wearing a formal soft gray morning coat
with long tail. Her wing bars looked like matching flap pockets on
either side and her head was rosy. Her dark eyes looked deeply
set in a large head and her gros-beak looked proportionately too small for a
bird of this family.
The Golden-crowned Kinglets played their own little
game with me. They practiced gleaning rule #1--always maintain a
thick spruce or fir bough between yourself and the birder who wants to see
you. I saw three of them early in my birding day and heard their
high-pitched keening call all day long. Getting good looks at them was
another story; in fact, it's a story I can't tell you today.
Who said foliage season is almost over?
I saw a Red Crossbill that must have plucked a mottled reddish-orange and
yellow-green leaf from a Mountain Maple to wear as a garment. He
looked just like some of the colorful maple leaves I collected in Mueller
Park in Bountiful last weekend. I watched him preen silently in a spruce
about 50 feet over my head for 15 minutes or so. This bird had
the biggest crossed bill I've ever seen. I wondered if he could be a
wandering Type 9 crossbill, but that seems unlikely since they inhabit the
extreme southwest. Anyway, this bird's bill was big. The
mandibles looked like deadly stiletto daggers, curved in a grotesque and
impossible shape. When he started preening his upper breast with his
curvaceous bill, the mother in me screamed a silent warning, "Be careful
with that thing!" He shook all over and puffed his feathers out so
that he momentarily looked like a plush toy. He brought his right foot up
to his head and scratched his ear like a dog scratches. He was quite
intent on preening despite being aware of me the whole time. I eventually
left the silent crossbill to seek out other birds.
I hiked the 3/4 mile or so up to Cecret Lake.
On the vertical habitat spectrum, Cecret Lake is wedged between the high
coniferous tree line and the rocky krumholtz where the firs have been
miniaturized by the wind. The trees look like Japanese
bonsais. The lake was not birdy at all. I only saw
one Pine Siskin. I wistfully watched and listened for Black Rosy Finches
and was disappointed. However, if you're a geology buff or you enjoy
spectacular views, by all means--go to Cecret Lake. A bright birding
moment--call it Alpenglow--occured on the trail where a rivulet choked with
willows crossed. I approached the tiny stream hearing Dark-eyed Juncos and
White-crowned Sparrows. This spot was obviously the neighborhood drinking
hole. Both species of birds flitted through the willow branches and
drank. The junco population included Oregon, Slate-colored and
Pink-sided. The Slate-colored looked black and white and pink-billed
and dramatic after seeing the drabber tones of the others. Nearby, I saw
several more active crossbills in a conifer and they, too approached the water
hole. How 'bout that? Red Crossbills hopping through willow
saplings. I saw a Red Crossbill and a Dark-eyed Junco violating
an unspoken code of the arid West--no squabbling at the water
hole. They bickered over a prime perch. I also saw a
Mountain Chickadee and a Pine Siskin come down for a drink. There's a
lesson here for all of us: Maintain a fresh source of water for the birds
in our yards. Moving or dripping water is even better.
The day provided a few other birds--several female
Cassin's Finches and an audible Hairy Woodpecker and Common Ravens.
Several Clark's Nutcrackers regaled me with their drawn-out, electrical
buzz. A loud Steller's Jay smashed into my quiet reverie with
its abusing, "Shoak-shoak-shoak-shoak-shoak-shoak-Shoak!" The jay
picked through a heavy conifer and I saw its tall dunce-cap crest bouncing in
sync with the bird's energetic, bounding hops.
Last bird of the day was--I think--a Brown
Creeper. I got a terrible look at a bird advamcomg up a trunk after I
saw it fly from high in an adjacent tree to low on the next one. I also
heard its associated high-pitched, simple "seet-seet" call, much like the
Golden-crowned Kinglet's. My fraction-of-a-second view revealed a small,
elongated shape with relatively long curved bill working up the tree
trunk.
To reach Albion Basin, take I-15 exit 298
and drive east through Sandy on UT 209. The road becomes UT 210 at the
mouth of Little Cottonwood Canyon. Pass by Alta Ski Resort at
approximately mile 10-11. The road to Albion Basin Campground is gravel
for the last 3 miles, but the surface is good for passenger cars. The
Cecret Lake trailhead is to the right of the parking lot as you enter the
lot. Be aware that the trail signs have been removed for the
winter.
Kris
|