- Whip-poor-will photographed by Tim Wallace.
A Night on the Town
I don’t really understand why but the only significant populatin of whip-poor-wills in northeastern Illinois occurs in a very circumscribed area of Illinois Beach State Park from say the WI line to the Dead River on the south. Most of this territory is closed after dark but there are several access points, my favorite of which is a now disused road that crosses marsh and dunes as it heads towards Lake Michigan. Last year, Andy Sigler and I took Sulli Gibson there to show him his lifer whip. Not only was Sulli able to hear the birds, but he saw their eye shine as birds called from the limbs of the squat black oaks.
Sulli had a hankering for a repeat, so Tim Wallace and I joined him and Dick Paulson for a nocturnal adventure. Every year the road becomes more pitted and there are usually extensive areas underwater, this spring seemingly more so than usual. Our first interesting find were peenitng woodcocks. By now, the birds have abandonined their nuptial displays (any guy who hasn’t found a gal yet, is probably out of luck) but that doesn’t make them mute. And one bird flew over the road, giving me the best view I have had of the species yet this year.
But t hen the whip-poor-wills started their almost maniacal calls. As we traversed a low point and reached a wooded dune (arranged parallel to the lake) a new group of birds would get louder. We agreed that there were likely nine to twelve birds calling at various points along our route. Sulli wanted to see the “the lights of their eyes” so we left the road and went bush whacking. Throughout the exercise, he periodically played whip noises from his I-pod (note the 21st first century reference- “tape” is what I almost wrote). We had stopped as he readied his gizmo. The dulcet voice of the bird came forth when a few seconds later a brown object aimed straigt for him before veering off but a few feet short of its target. If Sulli, had been prepared and armed with a butterfly net, he could have caught himself a whip.
Tim, Dick, and Sulli wading for the whips to wail.
Swamped
Barred owl photographed by John Cassady.
As I have written here before, I am drawn to the Kankakee River valley. Here is a place that once cradled one of the largest inland wetlands in the forty eight states. Besides the waterfowl and the sandhill cranes, there are a few places still extant that conjure up images of what the old swamp used to be like before the authorities in Indiana decided to turn the river into a series of nine ditches. Of these places the most evocative of all is the Kankakee Fish and Game Area in Starke County not far from the bustling metropolis of Toto (“we are not in Toto anymore, Kansas”). In the fall the area is closed for hunting but at other times of the year it is possible to ride for miles on the dikes that separate the Yellow and Kankakee Rivers. A bald eagle has nested here in recent years, and it is a reliable spot for prothonotary warblers, pileated woodpeckers, and barred owls. But, truth be told, even if the birding is slow, its very looks set it apart- if you were brought there blindfolded and then were allowed to see, you might very well guess you were in the Okeefenokee (ok, there are no alligators in northern Indiana).
The area is one of those local spots that I enjoy showing off. While great days of birding can be expected over time, only the sandhill cranes at Jasper Pulaski can be virtually guaranteed. There are also the floral displays at places like Chiwaukee Prairie and Markham Prairie which are knockouts during the right time of year when specific species are in bloom. But the Kankakee Swamps are amazing any time of the year, and it was high on my list of places to share with my friend Lynn Rotunno. So last week we found a day that we could both spend and headed down to the Kank.
I was disappointed that the 10 mile loop drive was closed due to repairs. We headed down another dike but had to stop as its surface began to lose its capacity to support cars. I backed up with Lynn leading the way to make sure I was on the straight and narrow. We did eventually find yet another series of dikes that were far more accommodating.
Spring has so many charms, naturalists can be driven to exhaustion in their frenzy to enjoy it all. My neighborhood is loaded with soft-wooded and short-lived silver maples that tend to blow down in strong wind storms. But as I sit at the computer, I rejoice on those breezy mid-May mornings when the swarms of samaras twirl earthward. They collect on the car and I toss them by handfuls to watch their rotors ride the air currents. The other tree with impressive displays this season is cottonwoods. Clouds of puffy seeds pour down like snow, to carpet vast swaths of land. They are particularly striking when they come to rest on still backwaters, which is where Lynn and I found them.
Cottonwood seeds blanketing the backwaters of Kankakee Fish and Game Area in Starke County, IN (Photographed by Lynn Rotunno)
Two barred owls were finishing their duet when we started down our first dike. Then later I was playing the tape (Lynn was amazed that I had a tape recorder) for prothonotary warblers but only redstarts replied. In my sequence, pileated woodpecker followed the warbler and as I let it play for but a moment before the woodpecker began yacking back. More playing and the big bird came closer, until I glimpsed it darting through the woods. Lynn was impressed by the calls and loud raps, for she had never experienced the bird before. Then she too had a brief view, seeing the red crest.
We later stopped at Jasper-Pulaski to see the lakes there. By the time the day had ended, we had observed water in configurations and settings that have become rare around here- except on the Kankakee.
Lynn and Joel at Kankakee Fish and Game Area headquarters.
