May 15, 2024 – The giant group of sunspots around AR3664 that caused a powerful geomagnetic storm in early May has now moved away from facing the Earth. A few days before it moved off on Friday, May 10th, beginning at 8:59 pm from my location in Northeastern Illinois, I received a notice from my phone app, which I use to monitor aurora activity, alerting me to auroras in my area. I stepped out of my backdoor, looked up, and saw vivid, moving curtains of reds and pinks. Calling out with excitement to my wife for her to hurry to the back to see the northern lights, I began moving quickly to get a tripod and camera set up in the backyard for an attempt to capture this rare event from this well-publicized powerful solar storm. For over an hour, red areas from the auroras would appear in the sky above me. Red auroras were also visible behind me, to the southeast. The backyard is surrounded by a few tall neighboring trees and powerlines, limiting my composition to a narrow view, so I mostly shot almost straight up, pointing a little north; that is why The Big Dipper in the constellation Ursa Major is in most of the images. As I would see the reddish glow from the auroras start to appear, I would get my camera on the area, click the remote shutter release, and do a 10-second exposure at 500 and 800 iso. I continued to take photos when the auroras would appear, which lasted until about 11:00, giving up around 11:30 when the sky finally went dark.
Author: Gary R. Soper
Under The Shadow Of The Moon
April 8, 2024 – The anticipation of witnessing another total solar eclipse in Illinois grew as the calendar neared the date in early April 2024. I remember talking about the 2024 eclipse with my brother while stuck in traffic just north of Carbondale after witnessing the 2017 Great American Eclipse at Giant City State Park. 2024 seemed so far away at the time. Crossing the United States from Texas to Maine on the 8th, the path of darkness came smack-dab over Southern Illinois again, similar to the August 21, 2017, eclipse, this time with the shadow covering almost twice the width as it moved to the northeast unlike in 2017 when the shadow went from northwest to southeast. Many people had made plans months, even years, in advance so they could choose where in the path of totality they should be for this life-changing celestial event. Travelers had turned to historical weather data to help select the most likely locations for clear skies in the United States along the shadow path for April 8. I just relied on the current weather reports for Southern Illinois, and it was starting to look pretty good leading up to the event with only some high wispy clouds possible, but some of the historically cloudless areas began to look problematic; it was like nature was playing a dirty trick on those proactive and relying on weather science. But on eclipse day, while there were spotty areas of cloud cover across the path, most locations were treated to some great views of the eclipse from Texas to Maine, although some may have had to make last-minute changes to find open skies. Members of my family who gathered at my sister’s house near Raccoon Lake in Centralia were excited and lucky to be under clear skies as the moon started to move across the sun. An awe fell upon us as we looked towards the sky, and the moon became a coal-black door slowly and silently, sliding across the sun, extinguishing the bright, warm light that feeds all life on our little planet. Confused birds were flying low with urgency toward their evening roosts and singing sunset songs as the cool darkness set in and totality was at the door. Venus called out to the crowd with its brilliant glimmer in the ever-dimming light, look here, I am here. And without hesitation, down to the second, in an implosion of silver and black, the sun was reduced to a shimmer of plasma and flame with prominences many times the size of the Earth bulging from the edges, and humanity reacted. For those fleeting moments, under that shadowy ooze, voices of joy and wonder echoed, sending those worldly problems deep into the Earth towards its molten core from where they came; within those few minutes, across the land, without myth or fear, many millions became oneĀ and humans embraced a moment of enlightenment while standing spellbound under the shadow of the moon.
A Wet Christmas Morning
December 24, 2023 – It was a wet, dreary, and cold Christmas morning in 2015 when I headed out early to find and photograph a Snowy owl wintering south of Kankakee, an owl I had previously seen in that area over the past few weeks. When I arrived at the general location of the most recent sightings of the great white bird, I turned west off the main highway onto a small rural road and almost instantly was rewarded. About 75 yards down the road on the right, standing out like a beacon of white in the gray gloom of a steady cold winter rain, was the soggy-looking Snowy owl. I drove past where the bird was sitting a short distance out in the bean stubble and turned the truck around for a better vantage. I slowly and cautiously pulled up where I could safely observe the bird and got some photos out the driver’s side window, careful not to disturb the Arctic visitor. Even though the lighting couldn’t get any worse, I settled in to enjoy the moment, which lasted for over an hour. The owl seemed to have no interest in me as it preened its wet feathers with a persistent but gentle focus, dragging each feather through its sharply pointed bill multiple times, squeezing out the dampness, and straightening the plumes. Occasionally, the owl would rise on its feet and shake violently, the wetness of the relentless and confounded rain off its ruffled feathers, only to settle back to continue preening.
Snowy owls escape the cold, snow, and fierce blizzards of the Arctic winter by going south, many well into the interior of the United States. Some years are exceptional; the migration becomes very exciting when there is an irruption of Snowy owls, with record numbers appearing throughout the lower forty-eight. The excitement and stories quickly spread through the birding community and the general public as owl sightings began to add up. Irruptions coincide with the increase in the Lemming population in the north, a primary food source of the owls. When the lemmings do well, the owls do well, but when the lemmings crash, the owl population drops. The owl eventually flew a short distance to a grassy waterway that snaked through the field and hunkered down in the soft cover. Feeling the chill, I fired up the truck and headed towards town with warm and lasting memories of a visitor from the high north that I was lucky enough to spend some time with on a cold, wet Christmas morning.
Sparrows of Winter
November 11, 2023 – Soon after the much-anticipated fall warblers have moved through, peaking in late September through early October and heading south towards their winter homes, autumn hardens its stance, and winter awaits its stage call. Arriving from the boreal forests of Canada, the sparrows, those northern nesters, show up like magic in the yards and the parks amongst the yellowing leaves and dwindling berries on their way to their winter ranges, which can include Illinois. White-crowned, Lincolns, White-throated, Tree, and Fox are just some of the sparrows we see here in Illinois during the spring and fall migrations, some of which stay throughout the cold months. Over a dozen species of sparrows visit Illinois at different times of the year and are considered seasonal. Some species of sparrows arrive in the early spring and nest throughout the summer on the prairies and in the grassy areas along wooded edges across the state. The non-native House sparrow, introduced in North America in the mid-1800s, is a year-round resident and often congregates in numbers at backyard feeders, a nemesis to the human seed provider and probably appreciated only by the Cooper’s hawk. Unlike the bright-colored neotropical warblers, sparrows have muted, earthy colors that can be as beautiful as any, with sharp edges and contrasted tones in their tiny plumage. It is always a treat to see the beautiful White-crowned sparrows arrive in our area in the fall. White-crowned sparrows nest in the far north in Canada and Alaska, which includes the vast arctic tundra region. When it suddenly appears on an exposed branch in a brushy area, the adult White-crowned sparrow is striking in its confident-looking posture, with a bold black and white striped head above a grey-to-brown body. The White-crowned sparrow is a winter resident across Illinois, with higher numbers in the southern part of the state. Another common migrant in Illinois is the Lincoln’s sparrow. These little sparrows are ground nesters, having a summer range from the northern United States across Canada and Alaska and east to the Maritimes. There are also summer populations in the western mountainous regions of the United States. The Lincoln’s sparrows go further south for the winter than the White-crowned sparrows. Their winter range is from the far southern tip of Illinois to Central America. While some continue south, many other species stay throughout the winter here in Northeastern Illinois; it is difficult to imagine a cold and snowy winter scene of leafless bushes and dried plants without those small birds of winter digging and scraping the snow for fallen seeds during those dark months.
The Changing Light
October 7, 2023 – That old familiar change is in the air as fall arrives. The cooler nights provide a restful sleep and easy dreams as open windows bring a gentle breeze replacing noisy air conditioners. The changing light and long shadows give a new look and feel to a tired countryside. Even though the gardens and prairies still have plenty of nectarous blooms for the pollinators while adding color to the glorious landscape, many plants have gone to seed and are showing signs of wear and tear as they begin to reveal the yellows and oranges of autumn. It is that time of year before the ice and snow that summer residents migrate south. Many species of birds are on the move coming south from the higher latitudes, while others are preparing to move south by gorging on nature’s bounty of seeds, nectar, and insects, building up their fat reserves for their challenging journeys. Monarch butterflies, Common green darner dragonflies, and even Eastern red bats are taking to the skies and are heading to a warmer climate for the winter. Long-distance migrants like Broad-winged hawks have recently been photographed in the area working their way south towards Central and South America, where they will wait for spring near the equatorial latitudes, wisely retreating far away from those cold north winds. Large, bright white, wading birds, the Great egrets, stand out against the changing colors as they feed in the backwaters of the Kankakee. Hunted nearly to extinction in the late 1800s for their beautiful plumes, new conservation laws in the early 1900s implemented to protect birds are why we see the Great egrets today. While there are always a few egrets that stay in Northern Illinois through a mild winter, most of the summer population of Great egrets in the lakes and marches of the Great Lakes region will have gone as far south as Central America for the cold months. In the coming weeks, large flocks of Sandhill cranes will be in the air over Northern Illinois and Indiana as they have done for thousands of years. The Sandhill crane population has rebounded over the years from the low numbers of only a few dozen in the 1930s thanks to protective laws; today, we enjoy the sites and sounds of the cranes in migration, those bugling rattles that demand one’s attention, are a sampling of the bygone days before the Europeans expanded into North America, where they nearly wiped out the Sandhill and Whooping cranes forever. Shorebirds, wading birds, raptors, songbirds, and waterfowl travel through Illinois during the fall migration, some spending the winter in the state. Backyard feeders are a great place to monitor during the fall migration; watching and listening for those unusual migrating songbirds is an exciting and rewarding moment when one witnesses an uncommon fall traveler that probably goes unnoticed by most.
Fire Smoke and Migration
September 9, 2023 – The calendar, a shared understanding of humans, says that autumn does not officially begin in the Northern Hemisphere until the 23rd of this month on the day of the astronomical event known as the autumnal equinox. For Warblers, those dainty little songbirds, instinct is the main driving force, and we begin to see the movement of these birds south of their summer range in mid-August as their fall migration begins. Blackburnian and Black-and-white warblers are just a few recent sightings in Kankakee and Iroquois counties. Seasonal weather patterns are part of what stimulates the bird migration; the strong northerly winds and cooler nights influence when the birds move south, but this year there is another factor that is not yet fully understood, and that is the impact from the historic, widespread, and devastating wildfires burning to the north. The wildfires in Canada began in March and have burned millions of acres of Canada’s boreal forests across all provinces and territories. The smoke and flames are as dangerous to birds as to humans, and there is little doubt that many birds have had to abandon nesting attempts in and around the impacted areas. There is still a good chance that the birds escaping the fire and smoke attempted to nest again in other areas. Nesting habitats in these northern forests have been and continue to be destroyed by this extreme climate event, and that charred landscape in the coming spring may be a real challenge for birds arriving for the breeding season. Fire has always had a role in the life cycle of the forested ecosystem, actually helping renew the boreal landscape; experts acknowledge that today’s fires are more extreme than in the past and can change which plant species grow back after these scorched earth events. As the fall migration intensifies over the coming days, migrating warblers from points north will hopefully be seen in our area of Illinois as they head south toward their winter range in the Gulf states, the Caribbean, and Central and South America. Only time will tell how these extreme climate events of our warmer, drier, and changing planet will impact the warblers and all other plant and animal species, for that matter. Let us hope that our indecisiveness and resistance to implementing a more urgent plan to reduce greenhouse gas emissions has not manifested into those proverbial chickens that have come home to roost.
The Eastern Cottontail
August 11, 2023 – Long ears, large back feet, big dark eyes, a rusty brown coat, and a small round fluffy white tail that looks like a cotton ball, last seen nibbling grasses at the edge of a brush pile early this morning. That general description matches only one creature known to inhabit the thickets and the brushy areas here in Northeastern Illinois, the prolific and celebrated Eastern cottontail rabbit. Besides those remote thickets and brushy areas, the cottontail is a common sight around farmsteads, along rural roads, and even in urban yards and parks. Where there is cover and a food source, cottontail rabbits are most likely nearby. Sometimes the cottontail is a nuisance to hobby gardeners, a nemesis to some, provoking an ongoing battle of determination between species. Cottontails are prey for hawks, foxes, snakes, coyotes, domesticated carnivores, and even humans. The quick and alert bunnies always have a nearby fast escape route down a small shadowy path and into the thickest of cover, where they can hold tight until the danger is gone. Cottontails are, unfortunately for them, a winter game to hunters using dogs, usually beagles, to find the hunkered rabbit and start the chase; when pursued, the cottontail will run in large circles coming back near where the chase began trying to throw off the pursuer. During the great depression, the Eastern cottontail and other small game became a necessary meat source for many hungry Americans. The cottontail fell victim to snares, clubs, and guns, most certainly thinning out the local rabbit populations during that difficult and needy time. Native Americans would use the soft rabbitskins for blankets, clothing, and slippers for their newborns and toddlers to keep them toasty warm on those cold winter nights. One early account describes a Chippewa-made rabbitskin baby blanket, sewn with fifty to seventy skins and measured fifty inches square. The cottontail rabbit helped stave off hunger and provided protection from the elements during the hard times for humans; it has found a place in the lore and literature of generations, passing on life lessons in song, poetry, children’s books, and oral tradition. We all have stories of the Eastern cottontail rabbit, and I remember a frosty morning in Grampa’s leafless sleeping orchard; a small pile of yellow apples lay mostly brown and rotting near a stump. There was a thicket at the edge with cockleburs and briars, brown, sticky, barbed, and tangled; my 12-year-old face was red from the cold air, it was an unusually chilly late November, and the wind came with a sting. Suddenly with a step that crunched and smashed the frozen weeds, the explosion startled me; a cottontail, a blur of fur, darts from its hiding place, and for that brief moment, I had all but forgotten the bitter wind that tortured me. But the trickster was gone, over the rise and out of sight. After a pause and a sniffle, my heart resumed its usual rhythm, and the chill set in once more. Next time you see that little cottontail out there nibbling the grasses in your yard, take a moment and think about the long history of that resident of the briar patch and its deep connection to man.
A Remarkable Migrant
July 7, 2023 – It is always a great feeling in the spring when I get my first sighting of an Upland sandpiper for the new year, which happened with a single bird flushed from the roadside on May 4th in Iroquois County. Upland sandpipers stand about 12 inches and have a 20-inch wingspan; their plumage is a light tan color covered in black and brown streaks, and they have large dark eyes and a yellow and black bill. The sandpiper flew only about ten feet, landing in some corn stubble, where it slowly and cautiously strolled away, which allowed for a few pictures before I moved on, not wanting to put any unnecessary pressure on the bird. So far, since that first bird of the year, I have had 19 sightings of these remarkable but endangered migrant birds, mostly in pairs, as they searched for insects in the grassy areas along the roads in the same general area where they are sighted each year. There was a time in the 1800s when areas of Illinois would have hosted many thousands of these long-distance migrants during the nesting season. It must have been amazing to hear the Upland sandpiper’s unique songs ring out across the prairies and pastures of Illinois during the warm months. The encroachment of man with the destruction of habitat combined with unregulated hunting has left only some small localized nesting groups that seem to be having a bit of success in the small fragmented areas in and around the agricultural fields of Iroquois County. Early mowing along the roads and in the waterways in these areas could be postponed until August for the benefit of these nesting birds. This species needs all the help it can get, and leaving nesting and feeding areas untouched until the end of the season, is such a simple change that could have some positive effects, which would also benefit many other species of migratory birds and pollinators. The Upland sandpipers also face challenges in their non-breeding range that threaten their population. In South America, the sandpipers suffer from loss of grassland habitat, encroachment, and grassland burning practices by cattle ranchers across their winter range of southern Brazil, Uruguay, and Argentina. It is a remarkable story of avian migration, survival, and determination when one stops to realize the distance these birds travel each year to end up in Illinois and to nest in this area that offers only remnants of suitable habitat in Iroquois County and surrounding counties. I can’t help but think that we could do more to protect these nesting areas and give these determined travelers some recognition and support to ensure a successful nesting season.
Bitterns
June 10, 2023 – More often heard than seen are those secretive herons of the marshlands, the American bittern, and the smaller and less common Least bittern. The peculiar calls of the American bittern remind one of the sounds of liquid pouring from a large jug with a small neck and have been aptly described as a repeating oonk-ga-chonk, oonk-ga-chonk, earning the bittern nicknames like mire-drum, thunder-pumper, and stake-driver. The American bittern has a status in Illinois as an endangered native, and the loss of wetlands has reduced nesting habitat and contributed to the decline of this species over the years, which continues even today across its range from pollution, climate change, and habitat loss. The Least bittern is about half the size of the American bittern at about 13 inches, making it the smallest heron in the Americas. The little heron is listed as threatened in Illinois, suffering from the same environmental challenges as many wetland birds. The smaller bittern has several calls that are familiar sounds in the marshes and bogs with shallow water and tall cover, high-pitched clucking, and springtime mating calls of coo-coo-coo-coo heard in the wetlands are sometimes mistaken for the sounds of frogs or the songs of other birds like the Black-billed cuckoo. Once a common summer bird in Illinois, their decline began with a reckless assault on the land in the late 1800s. The destruction of wetlands by the draining of shallow lakes and ponds that once dotted Northern Illinois had a devastating impact on the local and migratory wildlife. With the encroachment of man determined to tame the land for other uses, the Least bittern is now seen or heard only in the limited areas of its favored habitat. Traveling at night during the migration Least bitterns begin arriving from Central and South America in April. The little herons build their nests among the tall, dense vegetation, where they interweave a platform above the water from dead plants. They will produce four or five eggs with two broods each year. Spring migration of the American bittern starts in March and April, and this might be the best opportunity for a lucky person to get a glimpse of this secretive and well-camouflaged bird. Although nesting does occur in Illinois in the limited marshes and sloughs, the American bittern is considered an uncommon summer resident. More widespread nesting occurs in the vast dense wetlands of our northern border states, continuing into southern Canada.
Curious Shadows
May 6, 2023 – Casting curious shadows that flow like a dark liquid across the Midwestern landscape, they silently glide to and fro like paper kites in the blue mid-morning sky, becoming a vision that is the envy of the earthbound. The large black and brown birds with an almost six-foot wing span and bald red faces with pale-colored beaks are Turkey vultures. Once a rare sight in these parts, they are now a common migrant in Northern Illinois from February through November; even though most have moved south by late fall towards their winter range, some remain during the sometimes harsh Midwestern winter. Springtime has brought large numbers of vultures back to Northeastern Illinois for the breeding season, which lasts from March through May. Turkey vultures are monogamous and mate for life. Their courtship behavior involves a dance where they hop around each other with their wings outstretched; the courtship also involves an aerial chase that can go on for some time. The vultures do not build a nest like other birds. They will lay their eggs, usually two, in tree hollows, abandoned buildings, abandoned hawk nests, and even in some thick sheltered cover on the ground. Both the male and female vultures take turns incubating the eggs. The parents will feed the chicks for about 11 weeks until they are fledged. By about 12 weeks, the young birds will have moved off and away from the nesting site exploring on their own and will be ready to join the fall migration in November. Throughout the warm months, a seemingly endless stream of Turkey vultures leaving their nightly roost take to the air looking for the thermal updrafts that will help them rise in the sky and glide with little effort while searching for food above the open country. With good vision and a great sense of smell, the vultures can locate even the smallest carrion in wooded areas, fields, and along roadways. Early mornings, throughout the summer, it is not uncommon to find large groups of Turkey vultures, also known as a committee of vultures, in dead trees, on rooftops, and utility poles with their wings spread wide, allowing the breeze and the morning sun to dry the night time dampness from their feathers and warm their bodies before they take flight. On those mornings of inclement weather, the Turkey vultures may stay on their roosts until conditions improve. Even though Turkey vultures have always had a dark and sinister eerie feel to their presence, they are very beneficial in the natural world. The vultures rid the environment of the carcasses of diseased animals stopping the spread of the dangerous organisms to other animals. As a natural clean-up crew, the vultures feed on the remains of those unfortunate creatures that met their tragic end along the roadways.