Solid Gold

There's a particularly good bloom of arrowleaf balsamroot this spring, at least in areas of southern Idaho where the snow has melted. These beautiful yellow wildflowers--members of the sunflower family, are common on dry hillsides throughout the Rocky Mountain West. There are so many flowers this year that many hillsides shimmer with a golden hue from a distance: It only took me a few minutes this weekend to walk into patches of thousands of flowers blowing in the breeze. All the photos here are from that short trip (you can click on them to see larger versions).

Lewis and Clark described the arrowleaf balsamroot on their expedition, calling them "sunflowers." Native Americans ate every part of the plant, which is quite nutritious. However, much of the plant apparently tastes bitter. The plant was also used as an anesthetic on wounds as well as other medical uses. Xeriscaping and native plant enthusiasts love it, but it is a challenge to raise: it takes seven years to flower.

Of course, arrowleaf balsamroot is just one of the many wildflowers that can be found throughout the foothills, sagebrush country and Rocky Mountains. On my walk, many lupines (below) were mixed in with the balsamroot, as well as many other beautiful flowers.

But the balsamroot steals the show. If you'd like to learn more about wildflowers, Silver Creek Preserve offers free wildflower walks at 9:30 a.m. May 14, 15, 17 and 24. Call 208-788-7910 to reserve a spot. The Idaho Native Plant Society offers plant walks in the Boise Foothills throughout May; the next one meets at the Boise Foothills Learning Center on the 15th at 6:30 pm. --Matt Miller

Tilapia in the Snake

From an aquaculture standpoint, tilapia has much to recommend it: As adults, they're vegetarians, so they require low energy inputs to raise. They are easily raised even in urban tanks, so food production can occur in areas that are already developed rather than degrading natural areas. And they can even be fed vegetable compost, turning household scraps into more food, or even a livelihood. In some African nations, development projects have installed tilapia ponds which are fed by the village's leftover vegetable waste. (A good account of such a project can be found in Mike Tidwell's book, The Ponds of Kalambayi).

But tilapia in Idaho's Snake River? Not so good.

Tilapia are native to Africa, but due to all the good reasons listed above, have been transported for aquaculture around the world. And like many creatures transported to new lands, they inevitably escape.

Recently, the Idaho Statesman reported the catch of a state record tilapia in the Snake River. Perhaps your reaction is like mine: There are tilapia in the Snake?

Actually, they've been there for a while, living in areas near thermal springs. Tilapia need warmer water temperatures to survive, so it's unlikely that they'll spread--unless, of course, water temperatures rise due to a changing climate.

In other rivers around the world, tilapia can become a menace. As vegetarians, they devour all aquatic vegetation, eliminating the base of the aquatic food chain. According to the U.S. Geological Survey, rivers that have abundant tilapia have lost nearly all their native fish.

Will this happen to the Snake? Probably not for now. But with any non-native species, the real impacts are often not apparent until it's too late. Some never become a problem, and may even be beneficial. Others spread rapidly and become impossible to control. New Zealand mudsnails were found in Silver Creek several years ago, but the cold water there is limiting their spread. In other streams, they have crowded out much of the native invertebrates, and thus, the fish.

The easiest way to stop the spread of such species is to prevent their introduction. But that is difficult in a global society. And anywhere where non-native creatures are raised, there's always the risk that they'll escape. The tilapia is already likely a permanent part of Idaho's aquatic fauna. The question is: Just how much a part will it be? --Matt Miller

Hells Canyon by Tractor

The Nature Conservancy's Hells Canyon staff is used to unusual working conditions. This is, after all, a canyon that caused Lewis and Clark to make a detour. To find non-native weeds, they're often sitting in a helicopter as it goes 40 miles per hour just above the ground, while zipping in and out of side canyons--a difficult test for even the toughest of stomachs. The seasonal staff are often on foot in the steepest canyon on the continent. It's hard work. And hot. As Mike Atchison, who leads the field crew, says: "You follow the canyon's cues or you end up feeling like your brains have been fried."

So it's probably not that unusual that this spring, the Hells Canyon staff loaded a jet boat with a Kubota 4-wheel-drive tractor and headed to the Conservancy's Garden Creek Preserve, deep in the canyon. Why?

Last year, Hells Canyon burned, including Garden Creek Preserve (above). The Chimney Complex Fire burned 80 square miles, including much of the remaining native bunchgrass habitat as well as trees along the creeks and waterways. Lush fields used by grazing elk and deer overnight resembled Craters of the Moon.

Fire is a natural part of the landscape, and many natural habitats are very resilient to it. However, there is one complicating factor in the canyon: non-native weeds. These weeds can quickly overtake a burned area. Once these weeds are established, native plants take a long time to recover.

And so, with the generosity of a private donor, the Conservancy brought in the tractor, as well as a rugged rangeland seeder and some hard-working staff and volunteers.

Some of the native grasslands will bounce back on their own, especially on north slopes and higher elevations. But on lower elevations (above), the Conservancy must restore these areas using native grasses, or risk invasion by non-native plants.

This April native bunch grass and forb seed was purchased and planted on the lower elevation benches, utilizing the tractor brought in by jet boat. The Conservancy's always intrepid Western Idaho conservation manager, Art Talsma, put in 13-hour days to ensure that every place that needed seed was covered.

Staff and volunteers also planted 600 native trees, including cottonwood, serviceberry and ponderosa pine. These trees will help control erosion, and provide great cover for birds and other wildlife. More trees will be planted this fall. (The white flags in the photo above mark where trees were planted along one of the creeks).

These conservation practices are labor intensive for field staff, and the Conservancy thanks all those who helped out. The work will help protect what makes Hells Canyon so special: the beautiful grassland and spring wildflowers, abundant wildlife and world-class outdoor recreation opportunities in this remote landscape.

Duck Spotting

All photos courtesy of Tom Grey.

Perhaps no birds are more rewarding for the beginning birder to identify and watch than ducks. They're fairly large and the drakes are colorful, making them easier to locate in a field guide than, say, warblers or sparrows. They're perfect for learning birding skills such as identifying species by call (not all ducks quack), or in flight (a good birder or duck hunter can identify species by profile or even wing sound).

With more than 40 species of ducks, geese and swans in North America, finding all the different species can keep any birder occupied.

Large migrating flocks of waterfowl are one of the most impressive natural spectacles in North America. I once watched a flock of flying snow geese that took 45 minutes to pass overhead--literally tens of thousands of birds.

April is the perfect time to check out migrating ducks, geese and swans in Idaho. You might be rewarded with the sight of thousands of diving ducks on the Snake River, an unusual species on Lake Lowell, or a flock of swans landing on the Henry's Fork.

Here are a few places where you can see interesting species around the state:

Thousand Springs - The Thousand Springs area near Hagerman is one of the birding hotspots of Idaho, and you can nearly always count on interesting waterfowl sightings. Large flocks of scaup (above) and other diving ducks can be spotted on the Snake River, while the wetlands and springs host wigeons, gadwalls and green-wing teal. Other water birds, including Western grebes and pelicans--are also quite common. Check out Idaho' newest state parks--Ritter Island and Box Canyon--for some of the best viewing.

Silver Creek - The Nature Conservancy's Silver Creek Preserve is one of the best places to photograph and observe cinammon teal (above). Many other species are also present, including difficult-to-spot species like canvasback and ring-necked duck. The wetland areas, ponds and moist fields of the nearby Camas Prairie also offer rewarding duck spotting.

Kootenai River Valley - Wetlands once covered this North Idaho valley; today only 5% remain. Fortunately, a number of conservation projects have restored beautiful wetland areas--drawing large flocks of ducks, geese and swans in the spring and fall. Visit The Nature Conservancy's Ball Creek Ranch Preserve, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service's Kootenai National Wildlife Refuge, and Idaho Department of Fish and Game's Boundary Creek Wildlife Management Area. A great variety of birds can be found. Just across the border in British Columbia is another wonderful waterfowl watching spot--the Creston Wetlands.

Boise River Greenbelt - A surprising number of ducks and geese can be found right in downtown Boise. Of course, mallards and Canada geese are everywhere, but mixed in with those flocks are a variety of other species. Look for wood ducks and wigeons in the city parks, and hooded mergansers and goldeneyes in the Barber Pool area. You can even sometimes see much rarer birds: my sightings include a pintail, a tundra swan and even an Eurasian wigeon (above).

The Nature Conservancy has an ambitious goal to restore or enhance more than 8000 acres of wetland habitat around Idaho in the next five years, meaning more places for ducks to feed, rest and breed each year. --Matt Miller

Willows in a (still) Winter Wonderland

Last year, The Nature Conservancy completed a restoration project on its Flat Ranch Preserve (located 15 miles west of West Yellowstone), to reduce river sediments in the Henry’s Lake Outlet. These sediments clog up rivers and reservoirs, and were recognized as one of the greatest threats to spawning trout in the famous Henry’s Fork. The Conservancy and the Henry’s Fork Foundation took an artificially straightened portion of the Henry’s Lake Outlet and diverted back into its historic, meandering channel. Although “spring has sprung” in parts of Idaho, it’s still a “winter wonderland” at Henry’s Lake—meaning that now is the time to collect willows to stabilize the banks on the protection project. East Idaho conservation manager Chet Work files this report:

The outlet restoration project we completed last year is in need of bank stabilization. Not having water in the creek for the last 60 years has made some of the banks vulnerable to the pressures of moving water. As we bring river flows back to the channel this spring, we will need to begin working on stabilizing the banks with vegetation. Grasses and forbs do pretty well, but their roots are relatively shallow and can be undercut. We need to get woody (deep rooted) vegetation back on the banks and willows are the best!

Willows, like many deciduous plants have the ability to resprout from clippings, segments of branches and stems. Similarly, willows are difficult to regrow from seed so it makes sense to use clippings. Willows are also highly prone to hybridization when grown from seed. Though it is possible to identify individual species of willow, many times we have hybrids that are tough to classify. Because we do not want to introduce new hybrids to our ranch, we go get clippings from the restoration area.

Like all deciduous plants, willows lose their leaves and go "dormant" during the winter. The best success for clipping is to cut a dormant plant and as it wakes up it will re-sprout roots and leaves all at once. Cutting a clipping in the summer will only kill the clipping. So we have to do this before they wake up for the season, hence the need for snowmobiles.

Our goal is 500 new willows. Half of our clippings will go to a a group called Upper Valley Natives to be grown into 5-foot willows in 5-gallon pots. In late summer they will deliver 200 willows (of our exact species) to us and we will dig holes and drop them in. The other 300 are currently in a walk-in freezer, hopefully staying dormant. When the weather heats up and we can get out on the ground we will drill small holes for these clippings in the stream bank using a pressure washer, and will insert them into the holes. The success for these "water jet" plants is much lower than the greenhouse variety, but so is the cost. I hope you can visit Flat Ranch Preserve this season, and see the results of our willow planting and stream restoration efforts. –Chet Work, East Idaho conservation manager

Cedar Waxwings

Spring migration: thousands of snow geese landing in wetlands, sandhill cranes calling overhead, raptors appearing at their spring nesting spots in Idaho canyons. Keep your eyes open, and you never know where you might see migrating birds.

Recently, I heard the loud, excited twittering of birds just across the street from The Nature Conservancy's office in downtown Boise. A look into the trees revealed hundreds of birds feeding on berries: cedar waxwings.

Waxwings are one of my favorite birds. From a distance, they look like garden-variety little brown birds. But a closer look reveals the striking crown and beautiful red and yellow hues. The tip of their tail is especially brilliant:

According to National Geographic's Reference Atlas to North American Birds, cedar waxwings migrate from one patch of sugary fruit to another. When a particular patch of trees contains large amounts of berries, several flocks of birds will join together, creating a super-flock of hundreds--as I was seeing in downtown Boise. Nearly every branch of the parking lot's trees contained a hungry waxwing, picking off nutritious berries.

Waxwings are one of the few species outside the tropics that subsists mainly on berries. While their diet also includes insects, some 75% of their caloric intake comes from fruits. They gobble up berries with great gusto:

They migrate in an irregular pattern, moving from one patch of fruit to another. Their visit to a new area involves a feeding frenzy--stripping as much fruit as they can off the trees, before quickly moving on. I enjoyed their presence in Boise for two days, and then they were gone. Maybe somebody farther north is now enjoying them as they devour a new patch of fruits. --Matt Miller

Spring again (finally!) at Silver Creek Preserve

How do you know its spring at Silver Creek? Even though it snowed on Saturday and the road was impassible, I knew it was spring.

The first real sign--- the sandhill cranes are back! Their haunting song is heard throughout the day and if you look hard enough, you can see them riding the wind currents high in the sky.

The next sign---the moose have re-emerged and have been nibbling the buds on the trees and shrubs. I don’t know where they have been all winter, but this mama moose (above) made her presence known again yesterday morning as I walked out the front door and nearly ran into her.

There are many other things that happen at the Preserve that signal spring- the fish start moving up to spawn, the insect hatches get more frequent, our ropes are put back to use as we pull sightseers out the the muddy rutt of a road, and the air is alive with the music of birds and insects. You can’t help but appreciate the beauty, energy, and excitement of spring when you’re at Silver Creek. I hope you all join us in one of our ‘Welcoming of Spring’ or other events this year.--- Dayna Gross, Silver Creek Preserve Manager


Welcome Spring!!!
Every Saturday in April, join the Silver Creek Preserve Manager for spring nature walks. Come see the Herriers perform their amazing mating dance and watch the Preserve come back to life after winter. Please call ahead to register. 788-7910

Opening Day!! Saturday, May 24th
3:00 -:6:00 p.m.
It’s opening day of fishing season on the creek!!! Join the Silver Creek staff for drinks, snacks, and a b-b-q at the visitor center to celebrate!!

Weed Night, Wednesday June 11th
5:30-7:00 p.m.
Weeds are one of the biggest threats to native habitats! Come learn what you can do to help.
In collaboration with Blaine Co., the preserve staff will be hosting an invasive species evening. Learn about noxious weeds, invasive species, and different methods of control. Talk with preserve staff and neighbors to try and develop a way to work better as a team in the effort to control noxious weeds and invasive species.

Throughout the summer:
Natural history walks:
Join the Silver Creek staff on a tour of the preserve. We will talk about the unique ecology, hydrology, and history of Silver Creek.
June 7th, 14th,21st,28th July 5th, 12th, 19th, 26th August 2nd,9th,16th,23rd, 30th
Every Saturday throughout the summer starting on June 7, 2008.
9:30am -11:30pm at the visitor center

Wildlflower and Plant Walks:
Join our visitor center host, Ruth, a naturalist and plant expert for a tour of the preserve and the unique plant communities found here. She will point out interesting plants, point out birds and wildflowers, while explain the different processes of a spring fed creek. This is a great way to be introduced to the area!!

Wildflower/ plant walks
May 14th, 17th, 24th
9:30 am- 12:00 pm
Mothers Day at Silver Creek- Birding and a walk
Join us for birding, a wildflower walk and brunch coffee and cookies to honor mom’s!!
May 11th 8 am- 11:00 am


‘Day at Silver Creek’ Saturday July 26th
8 am- 3:30 pm.
Join the Silver Creek staff for a Natural history walk, bird watching tours, fly-tying class, scavenger hunt, and canoe floats. Canoe floats require registration, please call ahead. Come see all of what Silver Creek has to offer!

Wild and Scenic Film Festival Comes to Boise

The Nature Conservancy film Fish and Cow is just one of the offering in Patagonia's Wild and Scenic Environmental Film Festival, coming to Boise this Saturday, April 5 at the Boise Center on the Grove, with a 1 pm matinee and an evening show at 6:30 pm.

The festival benefits the Land Trust of the Treasure Valley, an organization dedicated to conserving the natural, scenic, recreational, historic and agricultural values of southwestern Idaho’s open spaces.

Fish and Cow is a poignant look at ranching in western Montana. It features ranchers who are passionate about their land, their way of life and the river that is the lifeblood of their valley. And it shows how the Conservancy is helping such ranchers accomplish their goals.

Other films shown at the festival will take viewers to Antarctica, a Hawaiian reef, a community-supported organic farm and a home aquarium. Tickets are $8-$12 and can be purchased on-line or by calling 345-1452.

Sea Lions and Salmon

Who couldn't love a sea lion? Whether they're lounging around, or engaged in their entertaining antics, sea lions are known crowd pleasers. Last week at San Francisco's Pier 39, I saw tourists from around the world photograph, watch and laugh at these playful animals.

A bit farther to the north, in Washington and Oregon, the sea lions have not been receiving such a warm reception. Here, burgeoning numbers of the marine mammals gobble up increasing numbers of imperiled salmon. A single sea lion makes an incredibly effective salmon-munching machine, especially when the fish are momentarily stalled by dams, as they are on the Columbia River. Many Idahoans likewise harbor ill feelings about the sea lions, as the fish they eat are the same ones returning to Idaho's rivers to spawn.

Some sea lions have packed on hundreds of pounds on a salmon diet, as reported in an excellent article on this dilemma in the December 2007 issue of National Geographic Adventure. They can eat mind-boggling numbers of fish in a relatively short time.

How could this be happening? In part, sea lions have increased dramatically in population over the past decades. The 1972 Marine Mammal Protection Act prohibited harming sea lions, and it worked.

The famous Pier 39 sea lions, in fact, were not even present twenty years ago. After the 1989 California earthquake, sea lions began showing up on the docks of San Francisco. Finding the calm environment to their liking--and not minding camera-wielding tourists one bit--they thrived. Today, there can be hundreds on the docks--a trend mirrored at other areas along the Pacific Coast. In the 1970's, their coastal population was around 50,000; today it is 300,000.

Last week, state officials in Washington and Oregon were given permission to kill sea lions that pose threats to salmon populations.

It is certain that sea lions are having an impact. But it's also important to remember a fact of conservation: Wildlife species (like salmon) that have healthy habitat are more able to withstand stresses (like sea lions). In a functioning, healthy ecosystem, species are resistant to factors like predation, non-native species, fire, flood and inclement weather. Thus, if salmon had fully functioning habitat, sea lions would likely not pose much of a threat.

Think of it like illness in humans: If a person is healthy, a burn or an illness is not likely to be life-threatening, and the s/he will recover just fine. But if s/he has a suppressed immune system, or is unhealthy, even a mild burn or a cold can be life-threatening.

It's the same for salmon (and sage grouse, and mule deer, and wolverines). That's why The Nature Conservancy recognizes the Pacific Salmon Ecosytem to be one of its highest overall conservation priorities. Salmon have complex conservation needs; fish hatched in small Central Idaho streams eventually migrate to the Pacific Ocean, and then return to Idaho to spawn a new generation of salmon. By working to protect habitat along their entire migration route, salmon can thrive--along with sea lions. --Matt Miller

Badger Booster

Idaho has the highest density of badgers on earth, but badgers are often in their dens (or digging new ones), and thus can be quite difficult to spot. Most people don’t think about badgers much. As the old saying goes: out of sight, out of mind.

That’s why badgers are lucky to have a new booster in Idaho Falls: Tennyson Miller (no relation), who has been spending the last few weeks learning badger facts for his school presentation.

After reading about my own badger encounter on Idaho Nature Notes, Tennyson and his mother contacted me and asked if I would serve as his “badger mentor.” Tennyson had many interesting questions about badgers, such as where best to find one (Snake River Birds of Prey area or the Owyhees would top the list), and which was more ferocious, a badger or a wolverine (I think a wolverine would win that match). We also discussed why Wisconsin is known as the “Badger State.” The truth is, Wisconsin derives its nickname (as well as the mascot for the University of Wisconsin), not from the animal, but because early lead miners in the region were known as "badgers”--because they did not have shelters, and had to live in tunnels they dug in the sides of hills. People would say the miners "lived like badgers." The name stuck, and that's what the nickname comes from. Wisconsin does indeed have badgers—but many less than Idaho.

Tennyson used this information—as well as a badger pelt from the Idaho Department of Fish and Game—to create “Badger’s Adventure,” a cool looking game that incorporates various badger facts:

It is by now well known that young people are increasingly disconnected with the natural world. A recent Nature Conservancy sponsored study found nature recreation--including camping, fishing and hunting and national park visitation--has declined sharply since the 1980's. But I still believe that young people have an innate fascination with wild animals. Learning about these animals through school projects only strengthens that fascination. I am sure badgers will have a lifetime friend in Tennyson. Here’s wishing him many of his own “badger encounters” in the years to come. –Matt Miller

A Trophy Silver Creek Brook Trout

Earlier this week, I wrote about the small brook trout ocasionally caught in Silver Creek--and wondered how they survived with so many brown trout.

Former Silver Creek Preserve intern Morgan Buckert read the blog and sent me this photo of a brook trout she caught in Silver Creek this fall. This is far larger than any brook trout I imagined living in Silver Creek. Indeed, this one is a trophy brookie anywhere. The coloration is also quite striking, a perfect example of a wild brook trout.

Incidentally, Morgan still holds the Idaho Nature Notes record for the largest trout ever recorded in Silver Creek--a 33-inch brown she landed in 2006. --Matt Miller

Photo by Paddy McIlvoy

Brook Trout in Silver Creek

Back east, brook trout bring to mind specific scenes: clear, cold running streams, hemlock forests, mountain laurel, Appalachian breezes.

But brook trout haven't had an easy time of it in their native habitat. Water pollution, acid rain and the loss of hemlock forests have all proved devastating to this colorful fish. So too have introduced species: brown and rainbow trout introduced by anglers have nearly always out-competed the native fish.

So perhaps the Western U.S. is the brook trout's revenge. Here the brookie is the invader, introduced to mountain streams to provide new fishing opportunities. The trout multiplied and multiplied, outbreeding native fish. They were so prolific that, in many waters, they exist in huge numbers of small, stunted fish. (The Idaho Department of Fish and Game has even placed sterile hybrid tiger muskies--large, voracious fish--in alpine lakes to gobble up all the stunted brook trout).

Brook trout still compete poorly with brown trout. But in Silver Creek fish species lists, one will ocassionally see brook trout as one of the species found here.

Are there brook trout in Silver Creek?

Formal fish surveys ocassionally find very small numbers of brook trout, but usually find none. I have caught two brookies on Silver Creek Preserve--both no larger than 4 inches.

What is the story of these fish? How do they survive? With so many fish-eating brown trout, brook trout will luckily never overtake the preserve. Anglers need not fear schools of stunted, non-native fish. They will likely cling to the most precarious of existences there. But in other Rocky Mountain streams, the brook trout serves as an important reminder that fish are best kept in their native waters. --Matt Miller

Box Canyon

From the parking lot, Box Canyon State Park admittedly doesn't look like much. It's a flat stretch of sagebrush surrounded by farms in the Magic Valley. At first glance, it looks pretty unremarkable.

But walk about a mile along the trail, and hidden treasures await: soaring eagles, rugged canyon terrain and aqua-blue waters that recall the Caribbean.

The aqua-blue waters are part of the springs that dot this section of the Snake River, near Hagerman in southern Idaho. These beautiful waters originate in the Craters of the Moon area, where the "lost rivers" sink into the lava and flow underground. Two hundred years later, they reappear as crystal clear springs in Box Canyon and Thousand Springs. The spring at Box Canyon is the 11th largest spring in the continent.

My friend Phares Book (who took these photos) recently joined my wife and I for a hike into the canyon. While the route down into the canyon was still a bit icy, we were rewarded with sightings of both golden and bald eagles, as well as large flocks of ducks, geese and coots along the Snake River. The hike goes by a nice waterfall and several springs.

This park is one of several in the area that The Nature Conservancy assisted the state in acquiring. In 1999, the State of Idaho had negotiated a purchase of nearby Box Canyon from the Hardy family. The state didn’t have the funds to purchase the property, but assigned the contract to the Conservancy. Under state terms, the Conservancy purchased Box Canyon, and simultaneously entered into a purchase and sale agreement with the state.

The Conservancy believes that Idaho Department of Parks and Recreation’s vision for the Thousand Springs Complex offers an incredible future for this area. The Conservancy also recently transferred Ritter Island, also known as Thousand Springs Preserve, to the state, and helped create nearby Billingsley Creek State Park.--Matt Miller

Is your kitty a conservation threat?

How often have you seen a cat stalking your bird feeder? If your yard is anything like mine, it's probably a fairly frequent sight. With many songbird species in decline across North America, you may have also wondered if those cats are contributing to the loss of bird life.

Americans love their pets, and obviously nobody wants to believe their beloved cat is a conservation threat.

In truth, compared to the staggering loss of habitat throughout the Americas, cats may seem a minor concern for bird survival. Songbirds undergo lengthy migrations each year, so they need intact habitat for feeding, nesting and resting from Canada to South America. Subdivisions, clearing of forests and intesive agriculture all reduce or eliminate these places for birds.

But cats can still have a significant impact, as David Mehlman, director of The Nature Conservancy's Migratory Bird Program, reports in this month's Ask A Conservationist.

When forests, fields and other habitat exist in smaller chunks, large predators disappear. In their place, more adaptable medium-sized predators like skunks, raccoons and red foxes thrive. Plus, bird nests and roosts are easier to find in small pieces of habitat than in large landscapes. It's easy hunting for America's suburban predators.

This includes cats. Indeed, one of the most common predators in America's suburbs and farmlands are cats, whether feral or just set out to roam by home owners. As such they can kill a lot of birds: as many as several hundred million a year.

It's a significant loss of birds, and one that can be prevented quite easily. Put a bell on your cat, or better yet, keep it indoors or on a leash. Idaho's backyard birds will have one less threat if you do. (And I must note: the two cute cats that illustrate this blog, owned by my colleague Stephanie Hansen, always wear bells when outside and are no threat at all to the local bird life). --Matt Miller

Fish Dinners

Last night, I enjoyed a dinner of halibut in a white wine/tomato sauce--a belated Valentine's Day dinner. As I think about it, some of my most memorable meals over the years have involved fish or seafood. Smoked salmon, grilled trout, steamed mussels, clam chowder, sushi--all would make the short list of favorite foods. Like millions of people around the world, I love eating these meals that are both nutritious and delicious.

But eating fish and seafood is also increasingly complicated.

Our oceans are in trouble--more than 40% heavily affected by human activities. Unsustainable fisheries contribute to the damage. What was once an abundant food source has become imperiled--turning a once-pleasant trip to the seafood counter into a smorgasbord of ethical dilemmas. (Fortunately, the Monterey Bay Aquarium's Seafood Watch program can help you make the best choices on your next shopping trip).

It's not only marine fish. Our freshwater streams and rivers demonstrate that pollutants in the air and water don't follow political boundaries. Last week, The Nature Conservancy sent a letter to the Idaho Department of Environmental Quality asking to determine the source of mercury in Silver Creek. This followed a study that found some brown trout in the creek--known for its crystal-clear waters--had mercury levels as much as four times higher than what is recommended for consumption by infants and pregnant women. DEQ subsequently issued a health advisory for consumption of fish caught in Silver Creek (while the preserve is strictly a catch-and-release fishery, downstream of the preserve anglers may harvest brown trout).

While the source of the mercury is not yet known, it is likely coming from the air from sources outside Silver Creek.

Throughout southern Idaho, other waterways and rivers now have health advisories on fish consumption due to high levels of mercury.

As Mark Johnson of KTVB-NBC in Boise said during his station's newscast of the Silver Creek health advisory, Idahoans take pride in our clean, pure water. We still have those beautiful spring creeks full of rising trout, the rivers where salmon still return to spawn, the breathtaking rivers that provide so much for our lives. But even here, toxins like mercury have become a part of our watersheds.

For millenia, our rivers, streams, lakes and oceans have provided for humanity. In Idaho, incredible salmon runs once fed numerous cultures. In the eastern United States, at the time of the Revolutionary War, the Susquehanna River employed literally thousands of people who caught shad for the market (today, shad are almost extinct in the watershed). More recently, many of us have cherished memories of catching some fish for dinner.

Our waters can still provide. But as a society we have to make clean air, clean water and healthy streams, rivers and oceans a priority. Our waters can still sustain large populations of fish, and in turn provide those healthy, nutritious, memorable meals. But only if we care. Working together, we can find solutions to these daunting challenges, so that a fish dinner and clean water remain not a luxury, but a part of our human heritage. --Matt Miller

Cardinals, Idaho and Winter

This coming weekend is the Great Backyard Bird Count, where people can count birds in their backyards (or other favorite areas) , creating a real-time snapshot of what birds are across the continent. Such "citizen science" can play an important role in bird conservation--providing indicators of species declines or range expansion. You only need 15 minutes. Learn how to participate.

If you're counting in your Idaho backyard, if past years were any indication, you'll likely see juncos, house finches and American goldfinches. You probably won't see the northern cardinal pictured above. The cardinal is currently not found here.

But will backyard birders some day regularly record cardinals? That is actually an open question.
Growing up in Pennsylvania, a welcome winter sight was several male cardinals sitting on a snow-covered pine branch. The bright reds, greens and whites created a beautiful contrast--a fact not lost on the holiday card industry.

But the cardinal is not a bird of winter. In fact, it much prefers mild temperatures, and prolonged winters once served to limit the cardinal's northern range.

Over the holidays, on jaunts around my in-laws' farm in northeast Iowa, I saw dozens of cardinals. Fifty years ago, cardinals were not found in the Midwest farther north than Missouri.

Why is this? Certainly milder winters have played a role, encouraging cardinals to check out areas farther to the north. But winters can still be tough in places like Iowa and Maine--states that now have year-round cardinal populations. As the cardinal's range expanded, it found hedgerows, small fields and backyard birdfeeders--all sources of seed that the cardinal needs to survive. The milder winters encouraged cardinal movement, but the new habitat is why they stayed.

The cardinal still does not like the cold, though. My mom told me just last evening of cardinals sitting hunched up, covering their legs with their wings, due to the blustery cold Pennsylvania is experiencing.

Will the cardinal spread to Idaho? Other birds have spread here, either naturally or with human help--house finches and valley quail will feature prominently in this weekend's backyard bird counts, but were not originally found in the state. Cardinals are found in southern Arizona, so it is conceivable--although the desert country and mountains would seem to serve as a barrier.

Ornithologists can't be everywhere, so your own observations can genuinely help track changes--like a bird species moving north. Join the Great Backyard Bird Count this weekend, and make a difference for our feathered friends. --Matt Miller

Photo courtesy of Tom Grey.

The Sport of Emperors in Eastern Idaho

In addition to pursuing one of the world's oldest sports, falconers have been responsible for some of the greatest wildlife conservation success stories. Recently, The Nature Conservancy's Sus Danner joined falconers in eastern Idaho for a day afield. This is her report:

Recently I visited eastern Idaho with Jan Peppler, our Director of Philanthropy, to tag along with some friends on a hunting trip. This wasn’t your usual hunting trip, though: our hosts brought neither rifle nor bow – they brought birds. We were near the town of Dubois in eastern Idaho to meet up with Keith and Hubert, two friends of the Conservancy who practice the art and sport of falconry. Eastern Idaho is a stronghold for sage grouse, and it is this game bird we seek.

The Nature Conservancy in Idaho has made conservation of sage grouse habitat a priority, but we can’t do it alone. We are fortunate to live in a state that has so many conservation-minded hunters and fishermen working alongside scientists to protect wildlife habitat here. There is perhaps no better example of this partnership than that of falconers and conservationists.

According to the Peregrine Fund, people have been flying hawks in the Americas since the 16th century. Because falconers hunt wild game with their birds, unfragmented habitat has always been critical to the sport. Falconers support conservation of wildlife habitat as well as the protection of birds of prey in the wild. In fact, falconers were instrumental in recovering the peregrine falcon from near extinction in the 1970s and 1980s. In areas where power lines, roads, and other types of disturbance infringe on wildlife habitat, falconry becomes less feasible. Here in Idaho, above-ground power lines especially pose a hazard to sage grouse, as the birds fly high enough to hit the lines. Not long ago, an above-ground power line was proposed near Medicine Lodge Creek, along a key sage grouse migration route. It was local falconers who called attention to the threat the line posed to wildlife, and local falconers who succeeded in getting that line buried underground.

The expansive sagebrush steppe of Idaho is where sage grouse thrive. Unlike many other birds, sage grouse cannot digest hard foods like seeds. Sage grouse are totally dependant upon sage steppe, as the birds subsist almost exclusively on sagebrush leaves during winter. The sagebrush steppe is critical habitat for sage grouse, the quarry for our hunter friends.

In the shade of the snow-blanketed mountains, the temperature was 1º F. In the sun, the temperature hovered around 32º F. “It’s a heat wave,” grinned Keith. Jan and I got into our warmest coats, snow boots and mittens. I brought along a Russian hat with earflaps, which was so warm it was worth the requisite teasing. We crunched out to the trucks to watch the falconers prepare for our day out in the sagebrush steppe. Below us on the Snake River plain, the giant stacks of hay bales looked like battleships and oil tankers on a bay.

Truck inventory: Four English pointer dogs, two gyrfalcons, one gyrfalcon/peregrine hybrid, one prairie falcon, one crate of homing pigeons, and one crate of pheasants. The falcons balanced comfortably on their Astroturf perches, even as the truck bounced along the rough dirt roads.

Usually the dogs are responsible for finding and pointing the grouse, but we didn’t use them at all this time; there were so many sage grouse that we could find them ourselves. Keith and Hubert taught me how to glass the sagebrush for the telltale gray and white shape of the grouse as they fed on sagebrush leaves. For an amateur, the grouse are difficult to spot, but the falconers could pick them out even at a distance.

Sage grouse are the largest grouse in North America, about the size of a domestic chicken. Their large size means they present a real challenge to the falconer, because a very large falcon must be used to hunt them. Keith and Hubert are experienced falconers, and use the largest falcon in the world, the gyrfalcon, when hunting sage grouse.

Once the falconers found the grouse, Keith exited the truck, moving slowly and quietly. Through my binoculars I could see the grouse looking cautiously at the truck as Keith opened the camper shell and released his falcon. “Once the falcon is up, the grouse will lie down,” Hubert told me, and as I watched, the grouse did just that: flattened themselves to the snowy ground and became as still as statues. The white gyrfalcon ascended until it was a tiny kite-like shape in the blue sky. It flew in broad Lissajous curves in the distance as Hubert and Keith walked through the deep snow towards the immobile grouse.

When the men got close, the grouse flushed, their wings clattering. Keith yelled, “Hey!”, and the gyrfalcon immediately tucked its wings and went into a stoop, aiming for a flying grouse at the bottom of the dive. The movement was so swift I could barely focus my eyes on it. At the last moment, the grouse dodged to the side, and the falcon swept up in an arc above the sagebrush. Keith held out a dead quail on his gloved fist, and the gyrfalcon flew lightly to it. Once on Keith’s fist, the gyrfalcon mantled the quail and devoured it, right down to the feet and primary feathers.

The falconers flew all four birds over the next few hours, and the exhilaration of watching each bird hunt did not wane as the day went on. Each bird had its own style and personality, especially Hubert’s gyrfalcon. When its stoop didn’t result in success, it pursued the grouse like an aerial greyhound, low along the ground and out of sight behind the mountains. Luckily, falconers use radio telemetry equipment to track their birds. Each falcon wears a radio transmitter with a dangling antenna around their neck.

The men were concerned that the falcon would fly too far from us and be lost. We drove quickly through the sagebrush, on rutted roads between deep snowdrifts that threatened to bog down even the high clearance pickup truck. We drove across a highway and into a system of rural roads through farm fields, always following the beeping of the radio receiver. As we drove, the beeping got more insistent. Blessedly, we saw a large silhouette on a power pole next to a lonely farmhouse. Hubert got out of the truck, used a lure to draw the falcon down to the snowy ground, and gently coaxed the falcon onto his gloved hand. We all breathed a sigh of relief as our day of hawking came to a cheerful end. Below, the happy reunion. --Sus Danner

Powerline/sage grouse photo by Hubert Quade; all other photos by Sus Danner.