Twelve Years In Utah
Twelve years ago this morning I woke in Grand Island, Nebraska. I was a little more than 800 miles from my destination of Salt Lake City.
Twelve years ago this morning I woke in Grand Island, Nebraska. I was a little more than 800 miles from my destination of Salt Lake City.
It is the season of phalarope migration here in the Great Basin hub of the Pacific Flyway and one of the best places to view these shorebirds is along the causeway to Antelope Island State Park.
I have never heard so many American Goldfinches flying overhead for such a long period of time and I was in awe. I still am.
Six days ago I was happy to see three flocks of Wild Turkeys and the smallest flock was in good light, at the edge of a forest and they were cooperative.
I was delighted to photograph the few immature Black-billed Magpies that were close to me and to observe those who were further away foraging and chasing each other around in a field dotted with wildflowers, grasses and sage.
Our Tundra Swans won't be at the refuge much longer and will soon be winging their way to their breeding grounds in the Arctic and I realize that my opportunities to photograph them before they leave are dwindling.
Red-necked and Wilson's Phalaropes have started their fall migration and one of the places where they gather in large numbers is the Great Salt Lake where they show up in the tens of thousands to feed and rest before continuing their journey.
During spring and fall migration there can be so many Eared Grebes (Podiceps nigricollis) on the Great Salt Lake that they are impossible to count.
I've only photographed Bighorn Sheep (Mountain Sheep some people call them) a few times and here they were, calmly foraging close to where I was! I was thrilled and excited.