B icyclists, runners and others who cruise past local hayfields may notice an unfamiliar, hoarse, buzzing sound.

If they take the time to hunt down the songster, they might spot a sparrow-sized bird with a yellow breast and black V under its chin, almost like a miniature meadowlark, letting loose from atop a fencepost or tall weed.

Named after that characteristic tune, dickcissels showed up in good numbers in Boulder County this summer, and their nationwide irruption from their core territory on the Great Plains is one of the season's notable bird-related stories.

According to citizen science website ebird.org, dickcissels have appeared in unexpected locales, spreading north of their preferred prairies into the upper Midwest and southern Canada. Nesting birds choose overgrown fields of alfalfa, clover and grasses interspersed with emergent forbs or bushes for perching, and drought may be playing a role in the current dispersal.

In Colorado, dickcissels are uncommon and wander about, looking for sites where precipitation and agricultural practices produce good habitat. They might reside in an area one year and be absent the next. This summer, dickcissels have found Boulder County to their liking, although mowing operations probably limited their breeding success.


Considering that their population is experiencing widespread declines across the U.S, along with those of other grassland birds, let's hope a few dickcissels managed to fledge.

Another recent highlight is the appearance and potential breeding of Mississippi kites in Greeley's Glenmere Park. These handsome gray-and-black raptors with ruby eyes are buoyant, graceful fliers that snatch large insects such as dragonflies and cicadas in midair.

Joe Prentice
Joe Prentice ( CASTNER )

The Greeley kites frequently have been seen coming in to roost in the evening, reminiscent of the line from the poem "Mowgli's Brothers" in Rudyard Kipling's "The Jungle Book:"

Now Chil the Kite brings home the night; That Mang the Bat sets free; The herds are shut in byre and hut; For loosed till dawn are we.

Colorado lies at the northwestern corner of Mississippi kite range, with the birds having settled the Arkansas River Valley in the early 1970s, and the woodlot behind Lamar Community College is a reliable place to find them. Kites nest in colonies, often in city parks or golf courses, and return to the same sites annually, so their hopscotch to the north might take hold and spread along the South Platte.

Finally, another bird that has produced excitement is a royal tern that visited Barr Lake east of Brighton (or "Sand-Barr Lake," as it was dubbed by some birders because of its low water level). It's only the third time the Gulf Coast resident has been recorded in Colorado, and sadly, I think I missed it. I was not able to get out to Barr to look for the bird, and I have not heard reports of it being seen since last Friday.

But that hasn't prevented me from searching for other terns closer to home, where lakes have taken on a seashore-like atmosphere. The two "marsh tern" species of the prairie pothole region are the ones most often seen here, and they utilize the same habitat, with black terns pursuing prey above the water's surface, and Forster's terns diving below.

Also possible, but much more unexpected, at this time of year are California gull-sized Caspian terns -- a bit heftier than royal terns and the largest terns in North America -- and least terns, a threatened species that maintains an outpost in southeastern Colorado.

When approaching one of our local reservoirs, numerous pale shapes can be detected lounging on the muck, which resolve into birds upon closer inspection. They range from hulking white pelicans, down through gulls and plovers to hard-to-detect peeps (sandpipers).

White waders seem to be everywhere lately, and there were times when I saw eight to 10 great egrets in a single binocular field of view during a recent trip to Union Reservoir east of Longmont. There also were plenty of snowy egrets about -- smaller, more delicate and wearing "golden slippers" (yellow feet).

The plumes grown by breeding egrets were much in demand by ladies in the early 1900s, who used them to decorate their hats. Florida game warden Guy Bradley was shot and killed by poachers in 1905 while working to protect egrets, and the incident helped galvanize early conservation movements. Thankfully, fashion tastes have changed, and egrets have recovered.

There is plenty happening at the ponds and reservoirs right now. They're muggy, muddy, smelly and sticky, and filled with birds. What more could you ask for?

Contact Joe Prentice at prenticej@dailycamera.com.