Submarine Sora

The photo below is about 15 years old now, but is connected to one of my favorite stories.  A co-worker and I were walking in a recently-restored prairie/wetland along the Platte River when we flushed a sora (a kind of rail – a long-toed, weak-flying wetland bird).  We watched it fly, and saw it land in an isolated patch of vegetation in the middle of a small wet slough.

Being good naturalists, we decided to see if we could get a closer look at the bird.  If you’ve spent any time chasing rails, you know they can be very difficult to find – even when think you know exactly where they are – but we tried anyway.  Sure enough, when we got up to the little patch of rushes where we saw the sora land, there was no sign of the bird.  The slough was only about 5 feet wide, and there was very little vegetation other than the rushes, which covered an area of only 2-3 feet in diameter.  There didn’t seem to have been anywhere it could have gone, and if it had walked or flew off, we surely would have seen it go as we approached.  But there was no sora in sight.

And then…  There was a big mat of algae floating on the surface of the water.  Out of the corner of my eye, I suddenly noticed a small lump appear in the middle of it.  Not really believing my eyes, I reached slowly down to the algae, pulled away a small bit – and exposed the head of the sora.  (!!)   As soon as I uncovered it, the sora submerged – again.  During the next several minutes, we kept careful watch on that little area of slough, and we saw the sora’s head pop out of the water two or three more times.  I tried to count the seconds between appearances, and got up to more than a minute at least once.  During one of its brief appearances, I managed to get a couple of photos – something I’m very grateful for, because I doubt anyone would believe my story otherwise.  Eventually, we decided we’d better leave the poor bird alone so it could resume its life.


The submarine sora during one of its brief appearances above water.

I’d never heard of soras or other rails going underwater, and I’ve since asked ornithologists and other naturalists about this and have never found anyone who’s ever seen or heard of this phenomenon.  Those familiar with rails know they have extra long toes, which helps them scamper across wetland vegetation – much like using snowshoes in snow.  I’d always assumed that soras just ran around most of the time, and flew when they absolutely had to…  However, I’m no bird expert, and when trying to learn about birds, it’s always good to go to Bent (Arthur Cleveland Bent, author of Life Histories of North American Birds – a series of books published between 1919 and 1968) – and sure enough, I found what I was looking for.

“The sora, like other rails, can swim well or even dive, if necessary. It often swims across narrow strips of water, rather than fly. C. J. Maynard (1896) writes:

All the rails swim and dive well but I think the Carolinas [Soras] rather excel them all in this respect, for they will not only take readily to the water, but will pass beneath it with great facility, and I once saw one run nimbly along the bottom of a brook, the water of which was about a foot deep, by clinging to aquatic plants, and crossing it obliquely, emerged on the other side, thus passing over some 15 feet while submerged.”

Knowing that soras can dive explains an awful lot about why they’re so difficult to find.  Bad enough that they can sneak around in the rushes by essentially walking on top of the water with their snowshoe toes.  Now, I find out they can play submarine too?  It’s just not fair!  On the other hand, I can better understand why a little clown-footed bird that flies like it’s half drunk is still abundant and widespread across North America.

I think this story also shows what can happen when we take time to be naturalists.  If, 15 years ago, I hadn’t taken a few minutes to go looking for that rail, I never would have found that submarine sora, and you wouldn’t be reading this right now.  Taking time to smell the roses really is important – not just for our own sanity, but also because those moments tend to lead to discovery.  My learning that soras can dive isn’t going to change the world, but it’s one more small piece of the ecological puzzle we’re all trying to put together.  The better we understand the world around us, the smarter conservation decisions we can make. 

And the sora is depending on us to get it right.

What Do Grassland Birds Need for Migratory Habitat?

A new study sheds (a little) light on a slice of grassland bird life we know very little about.

We know a lot about grassland birds.  Sure, there’s a lot we don’t know too – but we certainly know a lot more about grassland birds than we do about leafhoppers, nematodes, or most other groups of grassland species.  So how is it possible that we know almost nothing about what kinds of habitat grassland birds need during migration?

Do lark sparrows look for the same habitat during migration as they use for nesting? We really have no idea.

I’ve wondered about this for a long time – ever since I did my graduate work on grassland birds back in the 1990’s.  At that time, I was one of a growing number of researchers investigating the importance of the size and shape of prairie habitats to grassland birds.  We now know that prairie size and shape are very important, and more recent studies are even showing that the amount of grassland in the neighborhood around a particular prairie influences whether or not grassland birds will nest there or not.  As we continue to refine our understanding of breeding habitat needs, however, we’ve made no significant progress at all on what grassland birds need for habitat during migration – even though we know that migration is an incredibly stressful part of a bird’s life cycle.  It’s reasonable to wonder, in fact, if population declines in many grassland bird species could be more strongly tied to migratory and winter habitat than to breeding habitat.

For more than a decade, the only available published information on habitat use by grassland birds outside of their breeding areas has been a very nice study of winter habitat use in south Texas from 1999.  That research found grassland birds using a much broader array of habitat types than expected, including brushy and even woodland habitats.  The authors, however, were quick to point out that just because birds were using particular habitats doesn’t mean that those habitats were preferred, and there is no data on how well birds were doing in those habitats.  Still, it’s intriguing to think that bird species that are so picky about finding big open grasslands for nesting might not hang around in the same habitat types at other times of the year.

Just last week, I talked to one of the authors (Patrick Doran, The Nature Conservancy – Michigan) of a new paper that gives us our first real peek into the migratory needs of grassland birds.  Bruce Robertson, Doran, and others conducted a study of how grassland birds utilize grassland and biomass crops as migratory habitat as part of a larger project to assess biomass crops and their potential impact on birds in Michigan.  Their data on bird use of switchgrass fields and prairies during migration showed that obligate grassland birds (species that rely solely on grasslands for breeding habitat) were positively tied to large grassland patches and tended to stay away from wooded areas.  In addition to those two variables, obligate grassland birds also tended to use grasslands with patchy vegetation structure (a mixture of tall and short structure) more than uniformly tall/dense grass.

Large prairies with heterogeneous vegetation structure may be favored by migratory grassland birds. In August and September, as many grassland birds are moving south, both seeds and insects are abundant in many prairies. Is one food source more important than the other? Is either important? Or are birds simply looking for a safe place to rest before continuing south?

This project was a great first step, but like all good research projects, it left us with more questions than answers.  What are those grassland birds using the habitat for?  Are they feeding significantly while there or just resting?  If they’re feeding, are they eating insects or seeds – or both?  Do grassland birds look for the same habitat structure (e.g., tall/dense or short/sparse, etc.) when choosing migratory stopover habitat as they do when choosing breeding habitat?  Knowing the answers to those questions would sure be helpful as we think about how to manage prairies.  For example, assuming habitat structure is important to grassland migrants, decisions whether to burn a prairie in the fall, early spring, or late spring could have very big implications for migratory birds.

One of the most interesting findings in the study by Robertson and his colleagues is the suggestion that grassland patch size might be important for migratory grassland birds.  Woodland migrants have been more extensively studied than grassland birds, and while the picture is not yet clear, it doesn’t appear that birds that require large woodlands for breeding habitat necessarily require the same for migratory stopover habitats.  As an example, a study in eastern South Dakota found that neotropical migrants seemed to use small farmstead woodlots and large Missouri River woodlands interchangeably.  Again, there are still lots of questions still to answer (e.g., are there differences in stress levels or weight loss between habitat types?) but that apparent ability for woodland birds to feed and roost in small woodland habitat during migration has important implications for conservation.  If larger woodlands were required for migratory stopover sites, our challenge to provide appropriate habitat would be much more difficult – especially in landscapes like those in North America’s Great Plains.  It looks like we might not get off so lightly in the case of grassland birds.  If this recent study is representative, the future of grassland bird populations may hinge on our capacity to increase the number of large (how large is large enough??) grassland habitat patches in our most fragmented landscapes.

I’m hoping that the study by Robertson and his colleagues will spawn others like it.  However, studying migratory grassland birds is difficult.  How many of you are comfortable identifying little brown grassland birds when they don’t sing – and when your only look at them comes as they are darting away from you and diving back into the grass?  Regardless of the difficulty, though, we really need the information, and that information doesn’t have to come soley from academic research.  Any birdwatcher or prairie manager could add critical information to what we know by simply keeping track of the grassland bird species they see during spring and fall migration, and noting any habitat characteristics they can (e.g., prairie size, distance from trees, habitat structure – tall, short, dense, sparse).  At worst, sharing field notes with each other might give us at least something to go on as we think about management, and at best could provide pilot data to help design more effective research projects than could be designed by starting from wild guesses.

It seems reasonable to expect that late summer haying reduces the quality of prairies for migrating grassland birds. On the other hand, maybe not?

Our Platte River Prairies are located just to the south of an incredible grassland landscape – the 12 million acre Nebraska Sandhills.  I sometimes wonder about the birds that nest there.  They aren’t lacking for breeding habitat quantity or quality, as far as we know, but they’re only in those big sandhill prairies for a small proportion of their year.  In order to survive to the next breeding season, those birds have to make their way south through some very fragmented landscapes, survive the winter in what can be perilous southern habitats, and then work back north through those fragmented landscapes again.  Our Platte River Prairies are probably among their first stops heading south and their last stops heading north.  Are there management practices that we’re doing that are contributing positively or negatively to the success of those migratory birds?  We really have no idea.  That makes me uncomfortable.

I imagine the birds are a little nervous too.