Warbler #1

"Of all the paths you take in life, make sure a few of them are dirt."

― John Muir 

Despite an overcast and cool weekend with intermittent showers, Sue and I made our way to the Pheasant Branch Creek Corridor on Saturday to pick up a few year birds. As soon as we stepped out of my RAV, I caught the call-note of an Eastern Phoebe and quickly spotted it. Shortly after that, I heard, then saw, my first Yellow-rumped Warbler of the season—a very drab one. The corridor was alive with Golden-crowned Kinglets—likely arrivals from Friday's warm temperatures and strong southerly winds. Other birds included Fox Sparrow, Brown Creeper, Tufted Titmouse, Black-capped Chickadee, White-breasted Nuthatch, Red-bellied Woodpecker, Hairy Woodpecker, Downy Woodpecker, Northern Flicker, American Robin, Blue Jay, American Crow, American Goldfinch, Song Sparrow, Northern Cardinal, Red-tailed Hawk, and more.

In just a couple of weeks, the stark, monochromatic landscape of the creek corridor will undergo a dramatic transformation. Bare branches will burst with fresh green leaves, and the once-muted understory will become dense with ferns, wildflowers, and tangled vines. The quiet, open spaces will be filled with the songs of warblers, vireos, and thrushes, while the air will hum with the activity of bees and butterflies. What now feels like a skeletal forest will soon resemble a lush, vibrant jungle, teeming with life at every turn.

Earlier in the week at Barneveld ...

The Nature Conservancy conducted a prescribed burn recently, and at least this spring, it was done early enough to avoid scorching nests and eggs. Eastern Meadowlarks have been back for a few weeks now, though it's mostly the males staking out territories. I understand the reasoning behind these burns—fire plays a crucial role in maintaining prairie ecosystems by reducing invasive species and recycling nutrients. But I still think it's overdone. When prairies are burned too frequently, insect diversity takes a noticeable hit, impacting the very foundation of the food web. Fortunately, in this particular prairie, TNC tends to rotate the fields they burn, giving some areas a reprieve each year. Still, I can't help but wonder if a less aggressive approach would better balance habitat management with biodiversity conservation.

A beautiful sunset (Friday evening) at Pope Farm Conservancy ...

This was before the crappy weather!

All images © 2025 Mike McDowell

The Big Red Grift

"Ever get the feeling you've been cheated?"

— Johnny Rotten 

Elon Musk wants to go to Mars and colonize it in the worst way, but he doesn't have enough money to get the job done despite his astronomical wealth. Where will he get the trillions needed? That's the real play. Musk can talk about making Mars a private venture, but in the end, it'll be governments (aka taxpayers) footing most of the huge bill. Just like NASA funded SpaceX's early development, any serious Mars effort will need billions in public money.

As our era's preeminent tech messiah and self-appointed architect of humanity's future, Musk insists we'll be on Mars by 2026 (admittedly ambitious). His pronouncements, delivered with the certainty of a prophet and the detail of a fortune cookie, conveniently ignore the glaring reality that his Starship vehicles still struggle to return to Earth in one piece.

Meanwhile, Donald Trump, never one to let ignorance stand in the way of grandiosity, has pledged a cosmic Manifest Destiny, as if interplanetary colonization were just another licensing deal. The problem, however, is that manifesting a dream does not equip one with the means to achieve it. If confident bluster alone could bridge the gulf between Earth and Mars, we would already have a Starbucks on Olympus Mons.

In the real world—the one governed by physics, engineering, and logistics rather than tweets and stock valuations—a Mars mission is not simply an oversized moon landing. It demands a spacecraft that can refuel in orbit, a way to land on Mars intact, and a means to return home. It necessitates shielding against radiation that would sterilize unprotected flesh, medical systems that can function without a hospital, and food supplies that last two years without resupply or rot. 

Even Apollo, which had a clear and methodical path, only succeeded because of a relentless national effort fueled by a Cold War imperative. By contrast, Musk's Mars gambit appears to be fueled primarily by his need for public adoration and bottomless government subsidies.

The truth is, we are nowhere near Mars, and we will not get there by mistaking spectacle for substance. Musk's real skill isn't spaceflight but the relentless monetization of delayed promises, an art he has perfected through Tesla's perpetually unfinished "Full Self-Driving" software and a series of government contracts that yield more press releases than results. 

The danger isn't just that his Mars timeline is absurd—it's that we, as a society, are indulging it. Every pivot, every reversal, every grand proclamation untethered from actual progress ensures that we remain precisely where we are: trapped in the orbit of a billionaire's delusions, going nowhere fast. If we continue mistaking showmanship for strategy and allow this plutocratic puppeteer to dictate our celestial ambitions, the only launch we'll be making is into another cycle of empty promises and wasted billions.

Addendum:

"We will pursue our manifest destiny into the stars, launching American astronauts to plant the Stars and Stripes on the planet Mars."

— Donald J. Trump

No we won't — data points to consider:

• Voyager I, launched September 5th, 1977, is approximately 14 billion miles from Earth, traveling at a rate of 38,000 miles per hour. This would be equivalent to 50 round trips to Mars.
• The nearest star to ours is Proxima Centauri, at 4.2 light years away. 
• The percentage Voyager I has traveled, compared to Proxima Centauri's distance, is .057%, that total distance being 88,200 round trips to Mars. 
• The nearest galaxy to ours (Milky Way) is Andromeda (M31) at 2.537 million light years. This would be equivalent to 53 million round trips to Mars.
• The most distant galaxy known to us is GN-z11, about 13.4 billion light years away from Earth.

We may make it to Mars one day, but we'll never make it to the nearest star (after the sun). Yeah, I totally get that it was just jingoistic rhetoric.

Tundra Swans!

"In wilderness is the preservation of the world. The wilderness is not a luxury, but a necessity of the human spirit. As civilization advances, it takes its toll on the land, and in return, we lose a part of ourselves. It is in the wild places that we find our truest selves, where we reconnect with the pulse of life that exists beyond the constraints of man-made borders." 

— Edward Abbey

It's Spring!

With temperatures dipping into more seasonable 30s and 40s, the tiger beetle parade has gone into hiatus. But Nature always offers a trade-off, and right now, migratory waterfowl are at their peak. With that in mind, Saturday seemed like the perfect opportunity to visit Goose Pond near Arlington, Wisconsin, where the sight and sound of Tundra Swans create one of the most breathtaking spectacles of the early spring season.

Goose Pond was alive with waterfowl, with several hundred Tundra Swans and well over 1,000 Greater White-fronted Geese dominating the scene. Canada, Cackling, Snow, and Ross’s Geese were also present, though I didn't detect any Trumpeter Swans. The variety of ducks was impressive, including American Wigeon, Canvasback, Redhead, Ring-necked Duck, Scaup, Gadwall, Bufflehead, Northern Shoveler, Green-winged Teal, Mallard, and more. On the north side of the pond, a Northern Harrier and a Northern Shrike made appearances, while flocks of American Tree Sparrows flitted about. One lucky birder even spotted a Short-eared Owl.

Like other waterfowl, the swans are making the most of their stopover at Goose Pond, but soon they'll push northward toward their next staging area in southern Ontario. By late April, they'll be scattered across the prairie provinces, and by mid-May, many will have reached their breeding grounds in Nunavut and the Northwest Territories. 

Swans, ducks, and geese often flap their wings after preening as a way to realign their feathers, shake off excess water, and ensure their plumage is in optimal condition. Preening spreads oils from their uropygial gland, which helps waterproof and condition their feathers, but it can also leave them slightly disheveled. The wing-flapping helps settle everything back into place, keeping their feathers smooth and aerodynamic for flight. It may also serve as a form of stretching or a display of vigor, especially in social settings. Naturally, this is an opportunity for photography, but this one was too close to get the full wing spread:

There was much chin scratching ...

And preening ...

And even more preening ...

Swimming ...

And more swimming ...

Ye leg and wing stretch ...

And, here we go!

Plenty of frame-space this time ...

Ta da!

A lone Greater White-fronted Goose attempts to consort with the swans ...

As the wind and water settled into stillness and the sun dipped lower in the west, the reflections of the swans grew more striking—mirrored forms gliding across the glassy surface, bathed in the last warm light of the day.

Barely kept this one framed!

As the last light of the day slipped away, hundreds upon hundreds of waterfowl swept into the pond, their wings cutting through the air like a final flourish. Their calls peacefully clamored long after sunset, a chorus that lingered in the cooling evening. There's something almost sacred about these moments—when Nature's rhythm continues to unfold, even as the world around it falls into quiet.

All images © 2025 Mike McDowell

Words & Lies

"If everybody always lies to you, the consequence is not that you believe the lies, but rather that nobody believes anything any longer. This is because lies, by their very nature, have to be changed, and a lying government has constantly to rewrite its own history. On the receiving end you get not only one lie—a lie which you could go on for the rest of your days—but you get a great number of lies, depending on how the political wind blows. And a people that no longer can believe anything cannot make up its mind. It is deprived not only of its capacity to act but also of its capacity to think and to judge. And with such a people you can then do what you please."

— Hannah Arendt (1974)

"Words offer the means to meaning, and for those who will listen, the enunciation of truth. And the truth is, there is something terribly wrong with this country, isn't there? Cruelty and injustice, intolerance and oppression. And where once you had the freedom to object, to think and speak as you saw fit, you now have censors and systems of surveillance coercing your conformity and soliciting your submission. How did this happen? Who's to blame? Well certainly there are those more responsible than others, and they will be held accountable, but again truth be told, if you're looking for the guilty, you need only look into a mirror."

— V for Vendetta

March Tiger Beetles!

"One way to open your eyes is to ask yourself, 'What if I had never seen this before? What if I knew I would never see it again?'"

― Rachel Carson

"Let me keep my mind on what matters which is my work which is mostly standing still and learning to be astonished."

― Mary Oliver

With Friday's temperatures soaring into the upper 70s, I had a hunch that tiger beetles would emerge at one or more of my favorite haunts. In fact, it hit at least 81 degrees at one spot—unusually warm for this time of year in Wisconsin. In fact, many records were shattered across the state. The earliest tiger beetle to appear is usually the Oblique-lined (Cicindela tranquebarica). I didn't see many, but one or two are all I need for portraits, and they didn't disappoint. There weren't many other insects around, save for a few butterflies and some small flying insects I didn't bother to identify. At least there were prey items for the freshly emerged beetles to feast upon, providing them with an early opportunity to fuel up for the season ahead.

For now, the tiger beetle spot at Sauk Prairie State Recreation Area appears barren, the earth dry and seemingly lifeless. But the potential is always there. By April, the landscape will begin to green up, but there's something captivating about its current desert-like stillness—a quiet stage waiting for the season's first signs of renewal.

Birds present, mostly identified by vocalizations, included Sandhill Cranes, Song Sparrows, Eastern Meadowlarks, Eastern Bluebirds, Red-winged Blackbirds, Common Grackles, Blue Jays, Northern Cardinals, and a few fly-over Turkey Vultures. Still, my gaze remained fixed to the ground, searching for that first Oblique-lined. As it turned out, Sue spotted 2025’s first tiger beetle. "I just saw one!" she exclaimed. I quickly tracked it down and began photographing in earnest.

The astute tiger beetle enthusiast must always secure the requisite angles and close-ups, capturing the beetle in all its detail ...

A signature of March, everything was rather brown: the beetles, the birds, and the landscape. The lack of vibrant color gave the scene a stark, almost timeless quality, as if the world were holding its breath, waiting. In photography, monochrome settings like this often reveal subtle textures and contrasts that might be overlooked in more vibrant seasons. There's a certain appreciation in it's simplicity—how Nature's quieter moments can capture a unique kind of beauty, undistracted by the usual bursts of color.

Earlier in the day, I checked Stricker's and Tiedeman's Ponds for waterfowl. While I did spot a Red-breasted Merganser, there's currently more variety at the Black Earth Creek Pond along Highway 12, just outside Middleton. I've been checking it mornings before work and have observed Northern Pintail, Common Goldeneye, American Widgeon, Gadwall, Common and Hooded Mergansers, Redhead, Canvasback, Scaup, Ring-necked Duck, and more. 

While photographing a Song Sparrow at Tiedeman's Pond, three Sandhill Cranes suddenly emerged from the cattails, mere feet away. Backing up as much as possible, I could only manage to frame one's head in the shot. 

Perhaps used to people traversing the trails around the pond, they showed no concern as I continued photographing the Song Sparrows, calmly going about their business.

As the Song Sparrow sang its song, I couldn't help but think, Sing it, little brother!

As we cross a point in the season where more creatures emerge, migrate, or stir from hibernation, we're reminded that these moments are gifts—not just for naturalists and nature photographers, but for everyone. They are glimpses into the delicate balance that sustains our world. Yet, as we witness these wonders unfolding, it's impossible to ignore the growing threat to the environment, where short-sighted decisions are threatening the very systems that allow life to flourish. Nature's resilience is undeniable, but it needs our respect now more than ever.

All images © 2025 Mike McDowell

SNOW Necropsy Results

Snippet:

"The Wisconsin Department of Natural Resources (DNR) released necropsy results for a snowy owl found dead in New Glarus. According to a news release, when the owl was found on February 5, it had no visible cause of death. A necropsy at the National Wildlife Health Center in Madison revealed the owl suffered from emaciation and numerous intestinal worms, impacting its ability to absorb nutrients. The DNR said these worms are common in birds of prey, but some birds are more susceptible due to genetics or immune status. The DNR said there were no signs that human disturbance led to the owl's death, despite the many visitors it attracted. The DNR emphasized the need to respect wildlife by giving them space to thrive naturally."

Link: Full Story at WKOW

A nice closing sentiment; however, while healthy birds can generally tolerate low levels of parasites, infections can be fatal in stressed or weakened individuals. The stress caused to the bird should not be ignored, and any guilt or shame over it should serve as a reminder to do better. While mistakes happen, what matters is learning from them and taking steps to minimize harm in the future.

Weekend Birds!

Anser caerulescens
Anser albifrons
Branta canadensis
Cygnus columbianus
Aix sponsa
Mareca strepera
Mareca americana
Anas platyrhynchos
Anas acuta
Aythya valisineria
Aythya americana
Aythya collaris
Aythya affinis
Bucephala clangula
Lophodytes cucullatus
Mergus merganser
Meleagris gallopavo
Columba livia
Zenaida macroura
Grus canadensis
Charadrius vociferus
Larus delawarensis
Cathartes aura
Astur atricapillus ← YES!

Accipiter cooperii
Haliaeetus leucocephalus
Buteo jamaicensis
Bubo virginianus
Strix varia
Megaceryle alcyon
Melanerpes carolinus
Picoides pubescens
Picoides villosus
Colaptes auratus
Falco sparverius
Cyanocitta cristata
Corvus brachyrhynchos
Poecile atricapillus
Eremophila alpestris
Sitta carolinensis
Sturnus vulgaris
Sialia sialis
Turdus migratorius
Bombycilla cedrorum
Passer domesticus
Haemorhous mexicanus
Spinus tristis
Spizella arborea
Junco hyemalis
Melospiza melodia
Agelaius phoeniceus
Quiscalus quiscula
Cardinalis cardinalis

Back to Birding!

They're back!

Ha! Bait and Switch ...

Did you check out that zoomable Tree of Life? It's fascinating, even if you're not a biology nerd. Anyway, apologies for the censored f-bomb, but that kind of thing really gets under my skin. Actually, the aforementioned Pennock book wasn't my first dive into the realm of creation myths. That honor goes to Scientists Confront Creationism (1983), edited by Laurie R. Godfrey. It featured an essay by the late Stephen Jay Gould—my first introduction to his science writing. I was hooked. I read all of his books, including his mammoth The Structure of Evolutionary Theory (2002), a 1,400-plus-page cinderblock of a book. I'm certainly not an expert on the hard science, but for a lay reader I think I have fairly robust understanding of biological evolution and why it is the best explanation we have for the origin of species. 

A recent Pew Research poll (Religious Landscape Survey) found that 8 in 10 Americans now accept evolution—though there is a caveat. 

When asked: "Which of these statements about the development of human life on Earth comes closest to your view?"

• 33%: "Humans have evolved over time due to processes such as natural selection; God or a higher power had no role in this process."
• 47%: "Humans have evolved over time due to processes that were guided or allowed by God or a higher power."
• 17%: "Humans have existed in their present form since the beginning of time."

Naturally, I'm in the first camp, but I would qualify it with 'probably had no role' to maintain the honesty of my philosophical agnosticism. While I think it's great that more Americans are aligning with the scientific consensus on evolution, the degree of acceptance varies. Factors such as religious belief and education level still play a significant role in shaping how people understand and interpret evolution. While there may be some overlap in interpreting 'higher power' as the Forces of Nature, it's likely that most people in this category envision some form of supernatural creator-being (as seen in Intelligent Design), even if it remains entirely unknown to us. That said, even a generous allegorical retelling of the Book of Genesis cannot align with what we know to be true today—the notion represented by the 17% category is simply false.

This will not stop attacks on science. 

We got hit with a winter blast yesterday, dropping a few inches of snow, but it's set to melt later today. The weekend was warmer, though birding has still been fairly quiet. However, I did spot my first Red-winged Blackbirds and Sandhill Cranes of the spring migration, so it's officially underway.

Nearer to Goose Pond, there were a few dozen Greater White-fronted Geese hanging out with hundreds of Canada Geese. All the ponds in the area are still frozen over.

With all the goose antics, it can be tricky to get a shot without other birds sneaking into the frame.

Photo-bombing ...

There we go ...

Here in southern Wisconsin, the migration window for Greater White-fronted Geese is pretty narrow. I don't follow things like record-early or late any longer, but for me it's generally the last week of February to early March that I get to see them. They quickly move on. Species-wise, most migratory birds coming into Wisconsin right now stick around through the breeding season, but these geese fly all the way up to the Arctic Circle.

All images © 2025 Mike McDowell