Male Tree Swallow Chignik Lake, Alaska Peninsula, May 23, 2020
I was surprised this morning when I checked the Cornell Lab of Ornithology’s All About Birds site to note the absence of Tree Swallows on the Alaska Peninsula on Cornell’s range map. In fact these birds are common at least as far Southwest on the peninsula as the Chignik River drainage, particularly near settlements where nesting boxes have been established. Further down the peninsula they are listed as “uncommon,” their presence probably limited due to the lack of suitable hollow trees for nesting.
In villages throughout the peninsula the return of swallows each spring is widely anticipated as a true sign of spring. It is reported that one swallow consumes roughly 2,000 small insects (such as mosquitoes and midges) every day. Thus, a nesting box or two installed around one’s home can have a measurable impact on the population of bothersome bugs.
Treetop Shorebird Greater Yellowlegs, Chignik Lake, Alaska Peninsula, June 14, 2019
Greater Yellowlegs (as well as Lesser Yellowlegs and Wandering Tattlers) are well known as shorebirds that often perch in trees, particularly near their nesting sights, which are on the ground. They are abundant throughout the Chignik River drainage where they primarily feed on various small fishes.
Male Golden-crowned Sparrow on his way to his mate and their babies Chignik Lake, Alaska Peninsula, June 19, 2019
Golf Courses laced with poisons, mosquito traps, bug zappers, Rotenone and other toxins used to remove undesired fish species (and incidentally aquatic insects) from streams, the biological desserts called lawns, industrial agriculture and that “little bit” of whatever “cide” sprayed on the family garden – and all the additional instances in which invertebrate populations are suppressed with toxins and by other means…
…also suppress bird populations.
Even among avian species that typically consume mostly seeds, nuts or nectar, in order for the mother to create viable eggs and for the babies to develop into healthy adults, the rich supply of nutrients insects provide are critical.
The Dandelion Jungle Male Pine Grosbeak (Pinicola enucleator), Chignik Lake, Alaska Peninsula, June 14, 2019: Note his bulging crop – stuffed with dandelion seeds.
I can’t remember a time, ever, when I understood lawns. “We’d have more animals around our house if it was more like the rest of the woods and fields around here,” I once observed to my father. “We don’t want more animals around here,” came the reply. My antipathy toward lawns grew when for a brief time as an adult I owned a home where it was the neighborhood expectation that I keep the yard regularly mowed. And thus, for a while, I joined the ranks of suburban farmers, periodically harvesting a crop of grass. But at least I had the sense to use a mulching mower, thereby returning the clippings to the soil rather than gathering them and thus necessitating an endless need for ever more fertilizer.
The only place at The Lake appointed with a lawn was the school. I suppose it made some sense to keep those grounds trimmed as the yard was a popular play area for children. Fortunately, neither weedkillers nor fertilizer was part of the scene (though after each mowing the maintenance crew insisted, pointlessly, on raking up the clippings – and so it can be assumed that year upon year the soil there loses some nutrition). But thanks to the absence of poisons, all kinds of wildflowers volunteered themselves among the blades of grass: wild strawberries, willowherb, avens, yarrow, and around the edges even lupine and an occasional chocolate lily found a place to put down roots. But best of all I think was the spectacular carpet of dandelions the yard acquired each spring. And fortunately, we were able to prevail upon the lawn crew to delay mowing until well after this event.
All winter long, redpolls, siskins and Pine Grosbeaks – took advantage of feeders, alder cone seeds and spruce cone seeds. And then, when the dandelions went to seed, these finches would descend on the lawn and gorge themselves on nutritious, oily dandelion seeds, filling the yard with their happy chatter.
Chin Scratch American Robin, Chignik Lake, Alaska Peninsula, May 20, 2019
Having long associated American Robins with manicured lawns in the Lower 48, I was mildly surprised the first time I encountered the species along the Chignik River. They were not reported in David Narver’s Birds of the Chignik River Drainage study based on his observations in the early 1960’s, and although they are considered common further up the peninsula, from Aniakchak National Monument and Preserve (which encompasses much of the Chignik Drainage) all the way to Izembek National Wildlife Refuge near the peninsula’s western tip, the species is either not documented at all or is listed as only an occasional migrant.
For the most part, that’s how we encountered them at and near The Lake – a few birds passing through in mid-spring, late summer and early fall. But, they seem to gradually be establishing themselves along the Chignik. In two years, at least one pair remained late into spring, well after the peak of the dandelion bloom. We thought that in at least one of those late springs a pair of robins had attempted to nest. However, the weather became persistently cold, rainy and windy and there was no indication of success.
Along with the weather, abundant magpies and ravens – well-known nest predators – might be limiting factors to breeding robins. Nonetheless, it is likely only a matter of time before American Robins become established as regular nesters on the peninsula, particularly in villages such as Chignik Lake where lawns provide easy access to the earthworms they like to forage on.
Eagle with Spring Hillside Chignik Lake, Alaska Peninsula, May 20, 2019
Sam’s Boathouse, located along the shore of Chignik Lake and visible from our dining/living room windows, provided a favorite perch for eagles, ravens, magpies, gulls and occasional kingfishers. In the right light, the hillside across the lake could render a beautiful palette of colors.
Female Violet-green Swallow Chignik Lake, Alaska Peninsula, May 15, 2019
One of the most charming aspects of life at Chignik Lake is that scattered throughout the village there are more homes for swallows than for humans. Each spring the arrival of the first swallows is anticipated with almost as much enthusiasm as the arrival of the year’s first salmon.
The relationship between Native Americans and insect-eating birds such as Purple Martins and swallows precedes the arrival of Europeans on the North American continent. Audubon as well as observers who preceded him reported hollow gourds appointed with an opening hole and hung around camps and villages as nesting boxes for these birds. A single swallow or martin consumes about 2,000 small insects a day. That’s enough to make a real dent in populations of mosquitoes and biting midges. So, one could purchase a powered mosquito trap for several hundred dollars – thus emptying the air of the bugs nesting birds need to feed themselves and their offspring – or one could install nesting boxes, achieve the same bug-limiting effect, and create a sustainable cycle wherein swallows and martins return each year to mate, fill the air with their happy chirps, and clean out the bug population while raising a brood. The wooden boxes will long outlive the mechanical trap, and when the box does finally expire it won’t leave behind yet another plastic contraption to add to the local dump or landfill.
Three species of swallows inhabit the Chignik River drainage. The smallest are the little brown Bank Swallows. They make their nesting tunnels in sandy banks along or near the river and are fairly abundant. With the help of humans and nesting boxes, Tree Swallows, the largest of the three species, also thrive. Violet-greens are less common, perhaps outcompeted for boxes by the larger Tree Swallows. Barn Swallows, which can be found in villages further up the peninsula, haven’t yet made their way to The Lake.
There are good DIY nesting box designs available online and in books, and they can also be purchased ready-made. There is also good information available regarding controlling European Starlings and House Sparrows which can be a problem in some areas; these invasive species are infamous for taking over nesting boxes and even killing the desired swallows.
So… what are you waiting for? It’s probably too late in the season to attract new nesters this year, but if you hang a box or three now, a year from now they’ll be appropriately weathered and attractive to newly arriving migrants. A mated pair of birds happily rearing their chicks brings cheer to any property.
Waterbird Greater Yellowlegs (Tringa melanoleuca) Paradise Bend, Chignik River, Alaska Peninsula, May 17, 2019
May and June of 2019 became somewhat of a turning point both in terms of photography and our relationship with the Chignik. The school at Chignik Lake had failed to meet the state’s requirement for a minimum enrollment of 10 students from kindergarten through grade 12 and was therefore to be closed at the end of May. Barbra was reassigned to the school at Newhalen, 278 miles Northeast up the peninsula, above where the ball of the hip joint might be, on the mainland. We were heartbroken about the move. Artistically, I felt as though I was just beginning to figure out my relationship with the river. Emotionally, we were both deeply attached to the people and the landscape at The Lake.
With the move scheduled for late June (we flew ourselves and everything we owned out on a small plane chartered for us by the school district), I was doing my best to take advantage of good days… good light… and reimagining what our experience at The Lake had meant… what the essence of it had been. And so I began breaking away from strictly representational documentary, looking for images that captured not merely what things looked like, but how we would remember them. JD
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