Cold and Windy Winter

Even for us hearty Minnesotan's, this winter has been rough. Temps continue to be below average and when you add wind and periodic snow, it seems like there is no end in sight. Today the winds were terrible and as I hiked up the eastern side of the park, there were "walls" of snow zipping across the baseball fields. Here and there it made more sense to turn backward to avoid getting blasted in the face. I thought of all the birds and animals and how they can deal with such a harsh winter. I had only stepped out of a warm vehicle less than an hour ago but they have to endure the weather 24/7. So I wasn't expecting to see much. And though the total number of birds and species definitely diminish this time of year, there were still interesting things to see! On my way across the southern edge I'd seen a Bald Eagle soaring overhead, a Hairy Woodpecker and then finally a modest flock of about 15 Cedar Waxwings. I found it interesting to note that whereas I had been seeing flocks of Juncos in November and December, they seem now to have vanished and been replaced with Cedar Waxwings. Also interesting is that both species –so adapted to colder climates– seem to have similar sounding calls as well. Both Dark-eyed Junco and Cedar Waxwings make an extremely high-pitched sound. Some describe the Junco's sound as "electrical" sounding. As of late I thought I'd heard this sound and then realized it was not Junco's but Cedar Waxwings instead. Each time I've noticed them lately they have been eating berries from Buckthorn trees, which I hear is NOT good for any birds as they cause diarrhea, but is maybe the only food readily available. Later on the north side I stopped near the place I'd spotted the Great Horned Owl last week. After some intense looking around I finally did spot something. Barely visible between the trunks of two large trees I could make out a dark patch that seemed to be staring back at me. I am constantly amazed at how well Owls can blend into their background. You could be looking right at one sometimes and not even realize it. I like how in this photo both eyes somehow make it through the dried up Oak leaves.