Snowy Owls and a Rough-Legged Hawk

SNOWY OWL

Sandy Point, December 27

After Christmas, I was itching to get outside and look for birds.  David Drummond and I headed for Sandy Point, on the Lummi Indian Reservation, to look for Snowy Owls.  David is a biologist and the head researcher/ornithologist at the Merlin Falcon Foundation.  With his level of expertise, I did the driving and he did the spotting. 

On the way, we passed a Red-Tailed Hawk every half kilometer and a Bald Eagle, every kilometer.  Interestingly, we saw two Red-Tails patrolling a field together (and last week I saw eagle pairs).  The days are getting longer and pre-mating season pairings are already occuring.

When we arrived at Sandy Point, there was a wet, cool wind blowing from the South, the kind that brings rain at this lower elevation and snow to the nearby Cascades. Sandy Point is a peninsula, dividing  Lummi Bay from the Georgia Straight.  Driving on it, you see a beach strand, built up with houses that face the San Juan Islands.   

Our first sign of 'owl' was when David spotted the clipped, grey wing of a small passerine, about the size and color of a Junco or sparrow.  Shortly after that he saw this owl (above), using a chimney to shelter from the wind.  I was happy.  I had spent four years feeding a Snowy Owl at a raptor 'rehab' center, who was blinded in one eye, but this was a healthy FREE owl.

Our first concern, of course, was to observe without disturbing.  This Snowy Owl had just made an epic migration from Northern Alaska to Bellingham, from latitude 70 degrees to 48 degrees!  This would be equivalent to flying from Seattle to Baja California.  It will be calorie depleted and need rest.  What it doesn't need is to be stressed by people with binoculars, getting too close.  David and I watched from my vehicle and then carefully set up a spotting scope behind it.  We minimized noise and our presence.  The owl closed its eyes frequently and even tucked its head occasionally.

Females and immature males have quite a bit of barring.  Adult males lose this coloration.  The half-blind owl I helped take care of was a male, almost totally white.  The eyes are yellow.  The feathering covers the feet, a good adaptation in snow country.  One thing I have noticed about 'snowies' is that they are almost always silent.  Only twice, in four years did I hear the male vocalize and that was during mating season.  Frankly, I am glad it was usually silent.  The cry was so piercing it almost hurt my ears.

As we left this owl to rest, I spotted a second Snowy Owl on a roof top facing a boat canal.  We remarked on what a great area this was for winter feeding.  The small residential area was surrounded by shoreline, estuary, marsh, meadow, and small gardens.  This area has a variety of small rodents, song birds, shore birds, fish, and the occasional Garter Snake... a broad buffet for a hungry winter migrant.

Driving out of the Lummi Nation, David asked me to pull off the road.  He had spotted a Rough-Legged Hawk.  We watched it hover hunt over a field of Reed Canary Grass.  The hawk stooped (dove) and caught a Townsend's Meadow Mouse, then flew to a perch in a willow tree.  It ate the mouse in three bites and cleaned its beak.  What a great day!