Tag Archives: birds

Photos of the Week – August 24, 2026

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This is a great time to visit local prairies here in east-central Nebraska. A lot of the bigger showy wildflowers are in bloom and there’s a lot of insect activity, including a nice boost in monarch butterfly numbers and a lot of sound coming from mature grasshoppers, crickets, and katydids.

Monarch butterflies in recently-restored grassland at our family prairie.
Rosinweed (Silphium integrifolium).

Most grassland nesting birds are done for the season and/or have headed south. The exception is the sedge wren, which is commonly a late nester in this part of the world. We don’t hear them until late July or August, most years. They set up territories and nest in the more tall/dense portions of our prairies here, including both the Platte River Prairies and my family prairie. Last week, though, I found a dickcissel nest with very-recently hatched chicks, which was a real surprise. The parents were apparently very dedicated to getting something out of this season. I wonder how many failed attempts have led them to this point. I wish them good luck!

A dickcissels perching on rosinweed about 15 feet from his (late!) nest full of recently-hatched chicks.
A Woodhouse’s toad at our family prairie.
Sunrise and wavy-leaf thistle (Cirsium undulatum).

On foggy, dewy mornings, my most convenient local photo destination is Lincoln Creek Prairie, right here in town. There have been a lot of those foggy mornings lately, and a lot of photo opportunities. The farm just to the east of my favorite spot is growing soybeans instead of corn this year, which is much nicer in terms of allowing sunrise light to hit the prairie right away.

A yellow garden spider on a foggy morning at Lincoln Creek Prairie.
A derbid planthopper, a species I first learned about during my square meter photography project.
A longhorn bee roosting (comfortably?) on stiff sunflower (Helianthus pauciflorus) at Lincoln Creek.
Another bee waking up from its overnight roost on the same sunflower as above.
A green darner dragonfly on common milkweed at Lincoln Creek Prairie.
A big bush katydid of some kind on a yellowing milkweed plant.
A bush cicada (Megatibicen dorsatus) at Lincoln Creek Prairie.
Dew drops on Canada wildrye (Elymus canadensis).
Cucumber beetle on pitcher sage (Salvia azurea) at Lincoln Creek Prairie.

One recent morning at Lincoln Creek, I found a little digger bee that looked like it had spent the night hanging from a switchgrass flower by its mouth. This isn’t unusual for some native bee species – especially males, who don’t have a nest to retreat to. As I started photographing it, it began using its legs to wipe dew from its body, preparing to fly off. I’ve been trying to take better advantage of the video function on my camera, so after taking some good still photos, I switched to video mode (see the clip below).

Digger bee cleaning dew from itself while clamped to switchgrass.

Last Saturday evening, the wind was calm and there was a little haze near the horizon, so I headed out to a prairie I hadn’t visited for a while at the Deep Well Wildlife Management Area about 15 minutes west of town. It was nice to get out, but I’m guessing most people would not have enjoyed my eventual experience. Showy tick trefoil, aka tickclover (Desmodium canadense) is very abundant at this restored prairie (thanks Bill Whitney), which I knew, but had kind of forgotten about until I started walking. For a while, I tried to avoid it, but eventually gave up because there weren’t any clear paths through the prairie without intercepting it. (see photo below)

Showy tick trefoil (tickclover) seeds.

In addition to the tickclover plants grabbing me as I walked through the tall, dense vegetation, it was also a humid night with no breeze. That lack of breeze was helpful for photography, and there was a lot to photograph, but it also meant there was no help in keeping the clouds of mosquitos at bay. My head net and long-sleeved shirt helped, but weren’t entirely sufficient. It’s weird that I didn’t see anyone else out there…

In addition, the little blue butterflies, damselflies, and drone flies that were all over the place didn’t want to sit still, so I ended up with mostly plant photos. That’s fine, of course, but I was hoping for at least a FEW insect shots. Maybe they were trying to stay away from the mosquitos and tickclover, too.

Pitcher sage in late day light.
Cup plant (Silphium perfoliatum) and sunset.
Rosinweed and sunset.

Just prior to writing this post, I spent at least half an hour with a paint scraper getting the seeds off my shirt, pants, socks, and boots, all of which I’d left in the garage after getting home from the Deep Well prairie trip. I think I got most of them. Apologies to the Nebraska Game and Parks Commission for the unintended seed harvest without permission.

I did, though, keep those tickclover seeds, and will add them to pile of the other seeds I’ve been harvesting to overseed portions of our family prairie this winter. Sure, I know it’s setting me up for more post-prairie paint scraper time in the future, but the flowers are SO PRETTY!

I’m trying to take full advantage of this terrific time of year for prairie walks. I hope you’re getting similar opportunities.

Photos of the Week – March 22, 2026

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I’m sorry not to have posted much lately. It’s not you, it’s me. Well, to be fair, it’s also the roughly 1 million sandhill cranes that come through the Platte River each spring and all the people who come to watch them.

If you’ve never visited the Central Platte River in March, it’s hard to describe what you’re missing. Eighty five percent of the world’s sandhill cranes pour into a fairly narrow reach of the Platte and each bird spends a few weeks or more eating as much as they can. They’re building fat and energy before continuing north to their breeding grounds where they’ll likely be setting up nests in a frozen environment without a lot of available food. While on the Platte, they spend their nights on the river and their days split between corn fields and grasslands, mostly eating corn and various invertebrates.

You can see the cranes by just driving back roads in the area, but the best experience comes from watching them come to the river at night or leave the river in the morning. Check out the websites of our good conservation partners – National Audubon Society’s Rowe Sanctuary and the Crane Trust – to learn more about how to get into a viewing blind along the river bank. If you’re a member of The Nature Conservancy, we also offer a limited number of crane blind tours each spring as a thank you for your support. You can call our Omaha office in January or early February to learn more.

Sandhill cranes coming to the river on a cloudy night near sunset.

I’ve gone out to the blinds with several groups of guests this year and have given presentations to even more groups about this amazing ecological phenomenon. I’ve managed to get a few photos of cranes during a couple of those river bank visits and am sharing some here, hoping to encourage you to come the birds for yourself.

Cranes silhouetted against the cloudy sky after sunset.
Post-sunset viewing from one of our blinds as the cranes settle in for the night.
More silhouettes against the dark cloudy sky.
It’s always fun when the cranes come in on a night with a terrific sunset.
The same sunset and cranes as above.

Because the birds decide when and where to roost for the night based on a lot of different factors, we never know for sure what kind of show we’ll get to see from the viewing blind. About a week ago, we watched them crowd against the north bank to escape blisteringly-cold blasts of wind. One a particularly cold morning, some cranes were lying on their bellies to reduce how much of their body was exposed to the cold.

A cold morning, with several cranes on their bellies to (we assume) help keep warm.

Just a few days later, the cranes were already at the river when we arrived in the evening because they’d been hanging around the water most of the day as a way to mitigate the nearly 100 degree (F) heat.

Sometimes, we see cranes arrive at the roost well before sunset, but often they start arriving as the sun goes down and the majority pour in just before it’s too dark to see them. And, sometimes, they decide to roost in a part of the river that doesn’t include our viewing blinds.

The following four photos from late last week show a time progression over about 20 minutes as the sun dipped below the horizon and cranes poured into the river. This was one of the very warm nights when there were quite a few cranes in place when we showed up, but lots more came in as the night progressed.

Just before the sun hit the horizon.
Just after the sun dropped below the horizon.
All the good standing spots are starting to fill up.
And yet, cranes just keep dropping in.

So, that’s what’s happening around here – along with lots more. I will try to get some more blog posts out soon.

In the meantime, I hope you’re enjoying the spring wherever you are, except for those of you in the southern hemisphere who are in the midst of autumn. I hope you’re enjoying the autumn.

Wherever you are, if you get the chance to come see the cranes on the Platte River, I think you’ll find the experience worthwhile.