What a fabulous start to March! By the time I got to Estabrook, temps were in the 40s, the sun was out, and the breeze was light. The only downside was that the path along the river was mostly a sea of mud, so I had to stay off most of it.

Luckily for us, however, I remembered to bring my camera to campus this morning, and look who was already napping in the morning sun in Cambridge Woods. Yup, the red-morph screech owl was back again. Besides the better light this morning, it was snoozing a bit higher up in the cavity so we can get a better view.

The owl wasn’t the only redhead enjoying the nice weather, either. This cardinal was belting out a tune to stake his claim to a prime spot along the river.

Finally, if the nice weather wasn’t enough to remind you of spring, check out who I found foraging on the lawn.

It is certainly not the first robin of spring, as we now know well, but it is the first one I’ve seen working the grass as we’ll see them do throughout the spring and summer. It won’t be long until we’ll be seeing robins’ eggs again.

The forecast is for a dip below freezing tonight, but then snow showers after dawn, so tune in tomorrow to see what kind of footing I find along the river.

It was a little breezy and not very sunny, but the temps were right around freezing, and the trail was nice and firm, so a pretty nice morning for a stroll in Estabrook.

A common merganser drake was back on the river at the south end, perhaps even the one I failed to capture Saturday morning, and he had a hen with him this time. Perhaps she settled his nerves because I was able to get a picture at last.

Our hooded merganser hen was also back, and here she is drying out her wings.

At the north end, this goldeneye drake gave us a rare glimpse of his fine self up on the ice.

I bumped into Brian, and he helped me ID this handsome fox sparrow by the pond. The only other time I’ve ever seen one was back in January, and soon enough it will be off to the shores of Hudson Bay to help make more fox sparrows.

Back by the river, the mallards were thick this morning, and appear to be recreating some kind of crowded beach scene with snow and ice instead of sand.

Amongst the mallards, I spotted the hoodie hen again, and check out how much control she has of her bouffant. Now it’s up.

Now it’s down.

And now she’s caught me looking at her.

The mallard drake merely turning his head to change it from green to blue isn’t a bad trick, either.

It was a nice enough morning in Estabrook, with mild temps and mostly clear skies, but I had a hard time finding any pretty pictures for you.

The cardinals are getting even thicker, if you can believe it, and there were probably a dozen just at the pond. They must have had a banner year last year, and here’s one of them on the sumac by the river below the beer garden, chirping and chewing, just as the sun started creeping down into the river valley.

Here’s a downy woodpecker by the pond making sure I don’t make any sudden moves.

And that’s it from this morning. Sure I counted nearly 20 different species, including the biggest murder of crows I may have ever seen, with 12 individuals, but they all seemed to have their minds on other things and had no time for pictures today.

Happily, our buddy, Brian, alerted me yesterday afternoon about the screech owls down in Cambridge Woods. At long last, both of them were visible at the same time. By the time I arrived, there was even a guy who had driven down from Minneapolis to see the sight.

Phew! I think I need a nap, too.

It was a spectacular morning in Estabrook with clear blue skies, light winds, 11 degrees of Fahrenheit, and the snow from yesterday still looking fresh on the ground.

I was excited to see a common merganser drake back on the lower river, but he was less thrilled to see me, and he didn’t let me get a picture today. We haven’t seen the likes of him since January 26, exactly one month ago, and the last time we saw a hen was February 1. Welcome back, Buddy!

There were also a few mallards and goldeneyes, but our bufflehead pair and hooded merganser hen were taking the morning off.

The big surprise came at the north end, where I spotted just one bird on the open water. At first I thought it was the common merganser drake from earlier, but then I thought it was a goldeneye hen, and finally I realized that it was a greater scaup drake. Ha! They’re even rarer in Estabrook than the common merganser, and we haven’t seen one since last March.

Also at the north end, most of the branches are cleared of snow and ice now so the mourning doves are having an easier time finding perches. Phew!

By the pond, I finally managed to spot one of the woodpeckers that has been drumming lately. If you’ve been to Estabrook in the last couple of weeks, or probably any suitable woods, you know what I mean. Well, here’s one of the culprits, a male red-bellied calling and then drumming on a chunk of oak tree bark.

I read that “both male and female woodpeckers drum, most often in late winter or early spring when they are more actively seeking mates and establishing territories. Drumming is common in the morning, but woodpeckers may drum at any time of day.” Further, it appears that all four woodpecker species we’ve seen so far in Estabrook drum: downy, hairy, red-bellied, and northern flicker.

Anyway, the cardinals were thick at the pond, so here’s another one while we still have pretty snow for a background.

And here’s a black-capped chickadee just because.

Finally, on my way back to the river, I spotted the first mammal I’ve seen since the snow came: a little red squirrel getting a whiff of the snow, or more likely, what might be hiding beneath it.

It did finally snow last night, and we ended up with about four, light-and-fluffy inches of the stuff, which is our biggest accumulation this winter. Then there was a mix of lake-effect snow showers and bright sun against a blue sky this morning, so quite the pretty scene. Plus, folks seemed to expect that the combination of Tuesday’s ice and Thursday’s snow made for slippery trails, which it pretty much did, but that meant that I got to lay the first human tracks along most of the river. Best of all, the birds were especially accommodating this morning, and it was like school picture day.

Let’s lead off with a perennial favorite, a male northern cardinal snacking on some snow-covered sumac seeds over the pond.

Here’s a female I found nearby after a little snow shower kicked in.

There were plenty of juncos also checking out the sumac.

Plus, dozens of house finches, and here’s a female and male much less hidden in the bushes than usual.

At the north end, a nuthatch had just found a fat-looking little snack.

Here’s a red-bellied woodpecker still on the hunt for the same.

And here’s a mourning dove just trying to stay warm and apparently not interested in shoveling another parking space on some other branch, thank you very much.

Finally, our pair of red-tailed hawks were over on the east side again to soak up some sun. Here’s the first one I saw, up high and on the east side of the meadow. I think it spotted me.

Here’s the second one, which I almost missed, a lot closer to the ground and between the meadow and the river. What a handsome pair!

Finally, on the open river water beside the southern half of the park, I saw nearly a dozen goldeneyes, four mallards, our regular pair of buffleheads, and our solo little hooded merganser hen, who was nestled down into the snow for a comfy little nap.

I hear that snow is on its way, and it sure appeared that way in Estabrook when I arrived around noon today, but it’s not supposed to start in earnest until sunset.

The yellow-bellied sapsuckers must have heard that the red-bellied woodpeckers were getting into their sap, because I spotted my first one today, this striking juvenile in a maple tree just west of the volleyball court. I’ve never seen a juvy before, so I wasn’t sure who it was at first, but its behavior gave it away. Plus, it really does have a pretty yellow belly, doesn’t it?

We’re about 200 miles north of the north edge of their winter range, and “they arrive back north in May,” so this one has really jumped the gun! “Welcome to Estabrook, Kiddo, and we hope you can find enough sap to sip to get you through the next couple of months.”

Down on the river, I was happy to see our little hoody, the hooded merganser hen, was back and taking a break on the ice.

There were also about a half dozen goldeneyes around, and here’s one drake.

The bufflehead pair and a few mallards were there too, but I showed you pictures of them just yesterday.

Finally, by the pond, I spotted another dark-eyed junco variation, an “Oregon” form this time, to go with the “gray-headed” one we saw on Tuesday.

You can find a fun article about identifying all the junco types here.

Well, the snow is supposed to peter out by sunrise, and we might even get a little sunshine, so here’s hoping for some pretty scenes tomorrow.

Sure, it was 11°F, but the sun came out to light up all the ice from yesterday, and it was pure magic!

The coating of ice on the trails was amazing, much thicker than I expected, and the dusting of snow, like sifted powdered sugar, which hid the ice and provided an extra layer of lubrication, was the icing on top. Mwah! How I didn’t end up on my keister, I’ll never know.

I don’t think I saw a single mammal all morning, but the birds were out like crazy, and I lost count of all the cardinals I heard singing, even though I’m using the ebird app to help me keep track.

Cardinals weren’t the only ones singing, either. Here’s a chickadee by the pond that alternated between working on that seed it has clamped to the branch with its toes and singing that sweet, two-note, chickadee call.

Here’s a nuthatch by the pond busily chattering as he foraged.

Here’s a pair of house finches by the pond, who had been singing in a chours until I walked up, now just silently soaking up some sun.

And here’s a male downy woodpecker by the pond hard at work and ignoring all the rest.

By the river, near the southern edge of the ice sheet, I spotted this pair of red-bellied woodpeckers up to something I haven’t seen before. Here are the two of them.

Here’s just the female, with her white forehead, patiently waiting her turn below.

And here’s the male with his full red crown and his beak into something up above.

Then, here’s the male just before he took off.

And here’s the female now moved up and with her beak in the same spot.

Here’s another view from a slightly better angle of the female with her beak deep into a crack or slit in the tree bark.

It turns out that red-bellied woodpeckers will sip sap, either from holes they have made themselves or from holes made by other birds, such as yellow-bellied sapsuckers. Ha! I did not know that until I looked it up just now.

Finally, the river was pretty quiet. I only counted one pair of mallards, a half dozen goldeneyes, and our regular pair of buffleheads.

It’s supposed to stay pretty cold for the rest of the week, but I think the sun will do a number on the ice anyway, so I hope you get a chance to get out and see it before it’s gone.

A lot of sleet and ice was forecast, and we did get enough for UWM to cancel classes today, but not really enough to do a lot of damage, thank goodness. There was a break in the precipitation early this afternoon, so I hopped over to Estabrook to see if anyone was around.

The usual cast of characters was on the river, dozens of mallards, a few goldeneyes, and the one pair of buffleheads. Here’s a goldeneye hen up on the ice again.

And here’re our buffleheads running through some rough water.

Plenty of woodpeckers were hard at work, and here’s a hairy male.

I did see a wet-looking red-tailed hawk, but it stayed so far on the west side that I couldn’t get a picture to come out. Instead, by the pond someone has been throwing down bird seed, and here’s a “gray-headed” darked-eyed junco. I read that it is “very similar to [the] “red-backed” form but with [an] all-pale bill.”

There were plenty of house sparrows, house finches, and even chickadees, but I like the looks of this American tree sparrow, who will be soon on its way to the shores of Hudson Bay and points north. Eat up, little buddy!

With the dark skies today, the ice certainly hasn’t had its chance to sparkle in the sun, but it made this tangle of vines catch my eye, nevertheless.

Finally, I must report that our exciting new bird yesterday was indeed a rare bird to see but not really a new bird for us. Here it is again so you don’t have to click on a link to refresh your memory.

The experts weighed in, and it turns out to be a merlin, and not the sharp-shinned hawk I thought it was. We’re in the year-round range for sharp-shinneds, and only in the migration range for merlins, but this is the fourth time one has let me take its picture. The first was January 9, 2021, then again on January 12, 2021, and finally on October 2, 2021.

Oh well. I’m sure we’ll see a sharp-shinned hawk eventually.

At 32°F, it was wonderfully mild this morning, even if the wind was blowing a bit. The pretty blue skies were gone, but the birds were out in droves, so all-in-all, it was a great day to visit Estabrook.

The rapidly expanding open water on the lower river was chock full ‘o mallards this morning, and just as I put my binoculars down from trying to count them all, the little mink scampered across the ice right before my eyes, from the water to the shore before disappearing into a pile of driftwood. One of these days I’m gonna catch that little rascal on film even if I have to camp out in a blind overnight to do it.

It was still pretty dark, so I left the mallards and a few goldeneyes alone and continued north. Above the falls, I came across an amazing scene. A little tree growing right at the water’s edge was hosting a hairy woodpecker, a red-bellied woodpecker, a couple of downy woodpeckers, a pair of nuthatches, and at least four chickadees. The chickadees and the nuthatches were all speaking at once, and the woodpeckers would chime in from time to time. I’ve never heard such a fun cacophony from such diverse a bunch of birds in the wild before.

There is a hole in the tree trunk, and the chickadees were taking turns hovering in front of it when I arrived. Then the nuthatches moved in for a closer look. I never found out what was in that hole, but the birds seemed equally drawn to it and repelled from it. Here are some pictures I managed to capture of a male nuthatch trying to peak inside without getting too close. I’ve seen both chickadees and nuthatches hop in and out of holes smaller than that, so I can’t imagine why they didn’t just hop into this one. The whole thing was fascinating to watch.

Anyway, the party eventually wound down, and I continued north, where I was alerted by a quartet of gulls calling that something might be afoot. I thought maybe our red-tailed love birds might be about, but that was not the case. Instead, this little cutie was perched high above the northern island.

That, Ladies and Gentlemen, might be a new raptor for us, subject to confirmation by the experts at ebird.com. If they agree, and I sure hope they do, then we’ve got ourselves our first sharp-shinned hawk (Accipiter striatus), the diminutive cousin of the Cooper’s hawk we often see. Either way, it’s a young one, but it has broad, blurry, brown streaks down its breast and belly instead of “neat brown streaks concentrated on its chest,” so I’ve got my fingers crossed for sharp-shinned.

As I backed away after my first few pictures, it took off, but by the time I climbed back up the riverbank, it was back already and in an even better perch. Then it seemed content just to watch me struggle to capture something presentable of such a small bird so far away. Cooper’s hawks are seldom this accomodating.

Here’s a side view from farther north. It almost looks like our kestrel, doesn’t it?

I eventually moved on, counted the pigeons on the wires over I-43, and on my way back south, of flock of Canada geese flew over. Best of all, 2 landed on the ice. I can hear the conversation they’re probably having, can’t you?

“I thought for sure this would all be melted by now.” “Yes, Dear.” “Seriously. There’s no way I would have made you fly all this way if I knew we’d be walking around on ice.” “It’ll be fine, Dear. It’ll melt soon enough.” I sure hope she’s right!

At the pond, I was treated once again to a flock of cedar waxwings, and here’s one of the beauties.

Finally, back on the river, I found the buffleheads and one goldeneye hen just hanging out amidst all the mallards.

Lastly, I see we got a nice bump in signatures on our petition to continue the active streets program in Estabrook again this summer. Thanks! And, in case you’re worried about accessing your favorite venues, remember that when they closed the parkway last summer, sure you had to use scenic Wilson Dr to get to the beer garden from Capitol, but you could still drive to and park in all three parking lots. So don’t delay! Help us convince the Parks Department to make Estabrook really feel like a park again this summer.

The bright sun and blue skies continue in Estabrook this morning, and a 20°F increase over yesterday made the wind feel not bad at all.

The pair of red-tailed hawks at the north end must have heard about all the attention the courting nuthatches and snuggling squirrels got yesterday, so they were out this morning being about as cuddly as one might expect hawks to be.

When I took the image above, I didn’t see the hawk on the left and was just happy to see a hawk at all. Farther north along the river, I had a different perspective and was all excited to see both of them.

It was only when I got home that I found they were both there all along. Ha! Love is in the air!

By the pond, the bushes were full of house finches, goldfinches, house sparrows, and still a couple of common redpolls from the far north. Yay!

Back on the open river water far south of the falls, the buffleheads were diving without company this morning.

While the goldeneyes were doing the same a couple hundred yards farther south.

Thanks to all of you who have already signed the petition to close the parkway through Estabrook again this summer. With any luck, we’ll get enough to nudge the parks department into giving us a break from traffic through the park this summer.