"The brevity of life is to be yourself."
― Lailah Gifty Akita
November is slipping away, and suddenly only a handful of days remain as 2025 edges toward its final stretch. My birding has been pretty low-key lately, but the season is shifting all the same—the light is shorter, the air a little sharper, and the landscapes settling into their muted late-autumn palette. It feels like the quiet before winter fully arrives, a pause that invites you to pay attention to the small, steady changes happening at the edges of things.
At Pheasant Branch Prairie, the birding was subdued—mostly Dark-eyed Juncos, American Tree Sparrows, White-crowned Sparrows, and only a few other song birds moving around. Pretty quiet, really. To be honest, I was more focused on getting my steps in than building a list.
The drumlin at Pheasant Branch! I've spent so much time here since it opened up to the public back in the 90s. Technically, geologists would call it a drumlinloid rather than a true drumlin. A classic drumlin has a very consistent, streamlined shape—an oval hill of compacted glacial till with a steep upstream face and a long, tapering tail that shows exactly which way the ice flowed. The landform here shares that same general, glacier-molded look, but it isn't as uniform or cleanly sculpted as a textbook drumlin. Still, I refer to it as The Drumlin to my birding friends.
Back at my apartment courtyard, a Red-breasted Nuthatch ended up stealing the show. I was lining up a digiscoped shot of a young Cedar Waxwing when the RBNU's comedic yenk-yenk calls caught my attention. I gave a volley of pishes, and in he darted—curious, bold, and impossible to ignore. I probably pished more than I should have. He was not happy with me, so I stopped once I got a few photos.
Gorgeous weather, scenery and birds closes out November!
And what awaits in December?
Find out ...
All images © 2025 Mike McDowell