Saturday, July 11, 2026

grit

Sandhill Crane adult and colt, Cook Inlet and Mt. Susitna

Grit is a word that comes to mind when I think of birds.  The endurance of migration and reaching breeding grounds.  Finding a mate, building a nest, laying eggs.  Raising, feeding, and protecting a brood.  Reverse migration, returning to wintering grounds.  Repeating it year after year.  Sounds exhausting, doesn't it?  

Greater Scaup drake

Not every bird species migrates, of course.  Some stick to one region, often toughing it out part of the year in harsh weather by means of controlled hypothermia, constant foraging, being fed by humans, etc.  Migratory or resident, the life of a bird takes perseverance and effort.  


Short-billed Dowitcher

It brings me tremendous joy to watch the cycle of their lives unfold.  To see gulls show up in spring and later watch their chicks go from grey, fluffy, speckled cuteness to fully feathered versions of their parents is a delight.  Watching Red-necked Grebes carefully construct mounded nests in water, sit on their eggs, and then see the striped little faces of the grebettes on a parent's back can put a smile on my face for days!  Sandhill Cranes and their colts?  I adore everything about them and will excitedly watch them for hours.

Short-billed Gull with chick



Red-necked Grebe pair with grebettes

As July moves along, I find myself thinking that some of Alaska's summer species will soon leave for points south.  Once the Arctic Terns leave, summer begins coming to a close.  Not all migrators leave as early as terns.  In fact, many who breed further north linger well into autumn so there are many weeks left to enjoy those who pass through.  

Sandhill Cranes with colt

It's good to also appreciate our year-round avian friends, the ones who visit the spruce and birch trees behind our house and raise their fledglings in close up view.  The birds we hear and see on neighborhood walks.  These species are remarkable as well.

Trumpeter Swan with cygnets

Northern Pintail drake