For my
first post it only seems fair to write about my walk that made me decide to
create a blog. At the time of this post,
I am studying wildlife biology at the University of Montana in hopes of flying
off to Alaska and having a great adventure.
But for now, I am two years into my undergraduate and, more recently,
enjoying some time off for Winter Break.
January
3rd was a lazy Saturday and I needed to get out of the house. For today’s walk, I chose Maclay Flats, a
simple nature trail that reminds me of a wonderful place called Norm’s Island
in my hometown Billings. It complements
the Bitterroot River with a fanfare of Cottonwoods surrounded by the warm embrace
of Ponderosa Pine and Douglas Fir, a Missoula special. With a pleasant and winding trail, a couple
worn signs giving a brief natural history and plenty of wagging tails and
smiling faces, Maclay Flats makes for a perfect afternoon escape. The only thing missing when I stepped out of my
car and breathed in the sweet aroma of the Ponderosas was a companion of my
own, furry or otherwise.
Ready to
leave the parking lot behind, I made my way into the first stand of pine, my
mind beginning to drift. Before long
though, my attention focused on the tapping coming from the branches
above. About 10 little birds with orange
bellies and distinct black and white stripes on their heads were gently tapping
on the tree trunks. I realized they were
Nuthatches when I saw their signature move, they were walking upside down on
the trunks as they continued their relentless tapping. Unlike the Northern Flickers that pound holes
in to trees for nests, Nuthatches search for bugs beneath the bark by gently
tapping to find their hollow tunnels. Grinning at their identification, I listened
a little while longer before continuing down the trail.
Nuthatch, (Picture from Britannica) |
Reaching
the far end of the property, I passed by a couple, pulling their little girl on
a sled. I could not tell who was having
more fun, the little girl giggling in her carriage, the father pretending to be
a horse or the mother making random baby noises in the background. Either way, it was enough to make me chuckle
as I walked by, greeting them with a head nod and my usual, “nice day for a
walk, isn’t it?” They agreed and
continued their procession. That is why I
love the outdoors and going for walks, I always see something new and am guaranteed
to be happier when I finish. Up ahead is
the border of the river, a stand of Quaking Aspen blocking my view from the
gurgling river I know lies beyond.
Walking
through the Aspen I am again greeted by the gently tapping of a group of
Nuthatches, this time searching the bare Aspens for the evidence of their dinner. Again I stopped and watched them, mesmerized
by their colors and behavior. In
Billings, the overpowering ecosystems are sagebrush prairie atop the Rims, 1400
foot tall sandstone bluffs that line the northern edge of Billings, and the
riparian wetlands surrounding the Yellowstone River. Neither of which are popular with Nuthatches,
so I am intrigued by such a gathering of birds that I am not familiar with. Continuing on, I finally find myself
overlooking the river.
It is a
classic display, I turn the corner and find myself standing amongst the ancient
Cottonwoods that hold the banks of the river.
There is a slight edge of ice on either side, groaning and occasionally cracking
as the warmer temperatures and water wear away at it. To my left there is a slight disturbance that
causes the water to continuously overlap and crash into a triangle of
riffles. Upstream, I can see chunks of ice
bobbing as they are carried by the gentle exhale of the river. Scanning the tree tops, I spot a Bald Eagle, sitting
atop its iconic perch of outstretched Cottonwood. I would like to see it fly, so I stand their
silently and wait. The symphony of the
river washes over me, accented occasionally by ice crashing into the river and
the Eagle, stoically conducting from above.
I wait and listen for a long time, remaining still as others walk past
me on the trail, respecting my intimacy with silence.
There was no great crescendo, no
grand finale of the Eagle taking off, instead the wind and song brought a chill
encouraging me to applaud early and take my leave. Walking slow enough to let the river fade
away to a dull humming, I thought about what I ought to do tomorrow. Ahead of me I saw Blue Mountain and smiled,
remembering a day hike that led back to a fire watch tower. Grinning as I crossed back over the parking
lot to my car, I said to myself, “that’ll do.”
Nice post Jeremy! I'm proud of your nuthatch identification. Sounds like a lovely walk! I XC skied here in Bozeman today and saw a bunch of little chickadees jumping around in the trees. I'm glad you're watching the birds and the rivers, too!
ReplyDeleteExcellent story Jeremy. Reminded me of my countless random hikes over the years.
ReplyDelete