Happy spring equinox! We’ve crossed the threshold into the lighter half of the year, and the chorus of songbirds, bees, and springtime rain has been a sweet song carrying me through these transitional days.

As our world is waking I feel my body emerging from dormancy too. I crave a little less sleep and leaving the house to run errands or enjoy longer walks seems like less of a burden. I recently realized that I live my life in extremes: either in hardcore cozy house hermit mode or lost in the wilderness for days/weeks, which, as you can guess, is often not cozy.

Balance is important though, right? I think so, and getting out of my comfort zone out in the woods necessitates periods or rest and recuperation. Exploring and processing, working and playing, hibernating and growing. It’s all a practice in giving and receiving.

Speaking of not being cozy at home, it’s mating season in the animal world which means I’ll be trekking out about 7 hours away into the desert to monitor Greater Sage Grouse leks for a few days this week as part of a local citizen science initiative. It’s going to be pretty chilly in the wee hours before sunrise with long, sunny days. I anticipate lots of birding, painting outside, and diving into some new books.

The Greater Sage Grouse is the largest grouse in North America and lives in sagebrush plains across the western US. True to their name, a large part of their diet is sagebrush leaves and it is the only food they eat in wintertime. They are best known for coming together during the spring in large areas called “leks” where the males inflate their large and highly suggestive chest balloons and use them to make “booming” calls—click here for a 56 second video of this behavior in action. I’ve been told that these guys will often go wild performing their mating ritual when females aren’t even around, and they’ll even lek through the night if the moon is bright enough.

The Greater Sage Grouse is not listed for protection despite an 80% population decline since the 1960’s, which is largely due to habitat degradation and loss. It’s a shame that folks often look out across a sagebrush steppe and think there’s “nothing” there. These ecosystems are abundant with life and host a number of wild animals and plants with remarkable adaptations to the harsh conditions.

In the desert I feel both helplessly exposed and  lovingly held by the earth, and I ache for that sense of home and kinship when I’m away from it. It will be good to be back, especially since the prime directive is trying to watch weird birds get freaky with each other. I’ll report back on how they do.

UPDATE

Our high desert excursion a few weeks back was a success: four solid days with almost zero people, perfectly dark skies, and birds all around? Huge win, no notes, could not have been more pleased. The weather was warm but nights were a balmy 22 degrees. I also forgot a bag at home that had my contacts and other personal items, so we had to drive 1.5 hours to the nearest grocery store and back to get me what I needed for the next 3 days. Oops! But the detour resulted in plenty of Pronghorn sightings, a huge surprise Grey Ghost (Northern Harrier) hunting by the road, and lots of stunning views of the Sagebrush Sea, perfectly sweet-smelling and beautiful in its own deceptively desolate way.

A few highlights:

• Waking up around 5 AM to the sounds of the Sage Grouse making their bompbomp noises as they inflated their chest pouches during their mating ritual. Bucket list moment for sure! We watched them through our binoculars and a scope as morning arrived. I brewed some hot coffee to warm our hands, Charlie found an errant scorpion beneath a rock, and the Meadowlarks called forth the sunrise.

• Stopping to camp on our last night and hearing a soft “hoo hoo” call every 2-3 seconds in the nearby copse of junipers. Turns out it was a male Long-eared Owl! Apparently they make frequent hoohoo calls during mating season for various reasons and will usually keep it going through the night. I passed out too early to confirm.

• On our last day we spent most of it at Malheur National Wildlife Refuge, which is a must if you like birds and live nearby. We were blessed with at least FIFTEEN sightings of Grey Ghosts! This is what the male Northern Harrier, a native hawk, are called. The females are brownish, and man are they gorgeous birds. They have a facial disk similar to an owl’s to help them locate prey in the dense wetland grasses. Never in my life did I think I’d say “Oh, it’s just another Gray Ghost” so many times in one day! It’s rare to see the males, but they had just migrated back and were clearly ready to meet some lady Harriers. The song “The Boys are Back In Town” was stuck in my head all day.

• Charlie made it through the whole trip—pretty impressive for a 17 year old little dude! Happiness is still being able to adventure with him after all these years. Other good things: campfire burritos after long hot days, hiking to find more birds and Sage Grouse sites, early wildflowers blooming, random patches of obsidian and quartz studding the landscape, and as always, the irresistibly sweet and heady smell of the sagebrush, soft and lovely, providing priceless habitat and resources for the wild critters that call the high desert home.

Thank you for being here and for caring about the future of our environment.

Jenn

Greater Sage Grouse photo credit: Kerry Hargove, phys.com