Prairie Dogs, Bison and Badlands

If the title of this post makes you think of South Dakota then you are correct. After a couple months of recent Vermont content I am returning to my summer road trip that brought me here from Washington. Today I am sharing images from my scenic detour through the jaw-dropping Badlands National Park.

This means you will mostly be looking at landscape photography, but first I’ll show you images of two iconic mammals of the Great Plains. As I approached the entrance of Badlands National Park I was delighted to see Bison to my left. As I pulled off the road to the right I saw and exclaimed “Prairie Dogs!” While I had just photographed a couple lone Bison two days before in Yellowstone I was no less excited to see several here, and this was actually my first chance to photograph Prairie Dogs.

Black-tailed Prairie Dogs, Cynomys ludovicianus.

Prairie Dogs are not dogs (family Canidae), as I suspect most people realize. What may be less obvious is that they are squirrels (family Sciuridae). The dog reference in their name refers to the barking sound they use as an alarm for each other when they spot predators. These colonial ground squirrels were abundant throughout the Great Plains before of European settler colonialism decimated their habitat and persecuted them as agricultural pests.

Prairie Dogs are keystone species, which means that if they are removed from an ecosystem many other species will decline or disappear from that ecosystem themselves. Both plant and animal diversity benefit from how Prairie Dogs live their lives. By keeping all of the vegetation in their colonies cut short they enable plants that would otherwise be shaded out by tall grasses to become established. Plant diversity begets animal diversity by way of myriad specific relationships between plant and insect species. Prairie Dogs also benefit other vertebrates, as prey for numerous carnivorous mammals and several species of raptors. One of these carnivores, the Black-footed Ferret, Mustela nigripes, preys almost exclusively on Prairie Dogs. With Prairie Dogs extirpated from most of their historical range it’s no surprise that Black-footed Ferrets are an endangered species. One species of owl also relies heavily on Prairie Dogs, but not as food. Burrowing Owls, Athene cunicularia, don’t actually burrow, but they do nest in the burrows of other animals, especially Prairie Dogs. Less Prairie Dogs means less nesting habitat for Burrowing Owls. Neither Prairie Dogs or Burrowing Owls are classified as endangered like Black-footed Ferrets, who number about 300 in the wild, but populations of both have been declining for years. But Prairie Dogs are now protected in areas where Black-footed Ferrets have been reintroduced. This is a great start. Promoting tolerance and appreciation of Prairie Dogs outside of protected areas would be a boon to Black-footed Ferrets, Burrowing Owls, and many other species.

Standing up on their hind legs to survey their environment for predators is common behavior for many species of squirrels.

American Bison, Bison bison.

The story of American Bison (also known as buffalo) is better known than that of Prairie Dogs, and even more tragic. They nearly followed the Passenger Pigeon into extinction. The wholesale slaughter of Bison was similar to that of Passenger Pigeons in that it involved over-harvesting and the destruction of natural habitat. But it was even more nefarious in that the deliberate extermination of Bison was a major part of the genocide of indigenous people whose lives were largely built around them.

Fortunately the destruction of these incredibly important animals was not complete, and efforts to restore them since the early nineteen hundreds have been fairly effective. Particularly inspiring to me is the fact that Bison are being restored on the lands of many Native American tribes. But the great herds that roamed for a hundred thousand years could not return to the North America of today. Still, with continued effort on their behalf the wild herds that exist today could grow, and be at the center of landscape-scale ecological restoration and rewilding.

I felt some joy in spending time with with Prairie Dogs and Bison, but that happiness was tempered by grief for their long suffering at the hands of callous, ignorant people. There may have been more heaviness than elation in my heart as I got back in my car. But I hope that as I quickly move past this vast subject I leave you with a sense of hope. American Bison and Black-footed Ferrets were brought back from the brink, and Black-tailed Prairie Dogs have persisted against the odds. In making a better world for wildlife we improve our own prospects. Restoring the Earth’s wildlife and wild lands could ensure our long-term survival as a species, but it could do more than that. It could heal our broken hearts.

After a short drive away from the Prairie Dogs and Bison the grassland abruptly gave way to fissures in the Earth. I took the first parking space I could, put my wide-angle lens on my camera and stepped out of my car. Anticipation gave way to awe as rippled canyons sprawled out before me, etched with the strata of deep time. The powerful winds complemented the dramatic geology, if not my attempts to hold my camera steady. Here I will leave my labored prose behind, and hope that you enjoy the pictures ahead.

That’s all for now, folks. Thank you for your time and attention. I hope you’re feeling love for Prairie Dogs and Bison, and that it may inspire you to support their conservation and restoration. I also hope that my photos of Badlands National Park did justice to its awesome beauty in your eyes. If you would like to support my work you can do so at my store, https://www.geraldlisi.net/store-1, where my 2025 calendar, hand-made cards, prints, and a kids’ wildlife book are available. If you are reading this as an email please forward it to someone that might enjoy it. If you’re reading this on my website please sign up for my newsletter at https://www.geraldlisi.net to get future editions in your inbox. Until next time, my friends. Please take care of yourselves, each other, and the land you live on.

Vermont’s Autumn Spectacle

I anticipated Vermont’s famous fall foliage this year with great excitement, not having seen it from beginning to end in twenty-seven years, and my high expectations were fully met. Growing up in Vermont autumn never ceased to amaze me. Sure, some years are more spectacular than others, but to my eyes it was never less than amazing.

Now, as a nature photographer who is increasingly focused on landscapes, this autumn in central Vermont was a fantastic opportunity to practice my craft and build my portfolio. Fortunately I was able to dedicate many hours on many days to these pursuits. Where last month’s post saw me saying “good enough” to many images in order share some of my summer’s birding highlights, this month I am show you examples of what I consider to be some of my best work. Taste is subjective, of course, and I know that some of you enjoy my wildlife photography more than my landscapes. I also know that for some it is the opposite. Regardless of where you fall on that taste spectrum I appreciate your time and attention. I hope that at the least you find beauty in these pictures, and that perhaps you will even glimpse some of the wonder and awe that I felt while making them.

Worcester seen from Blush Hill in Waterbury.

Witch Hazel, Hamamelis virginiana.

Virginia Creeper, Parthenocissus quinquefolia.

Gray Birch, Betula populifolia and Hemp Dogbane, Apocynum cannabinum.

Moscow.

Stowe Pinnacle seen from Moscow.

Hunger Mountain seen from Waterbury.

Spruce Mountain with White Pine and Goldenrod seen from Marshfield.

Sadie Foss Road, Calais.

Sodom Pond, Adamant.

Owl’s Head and Stillwater Marsh, Groton State Forest.

Winooski River and Spruce Mountain, Plainfield.

Winooski River, Duxbury.

Camel’s Hump from Moretown.

Red Maple leaves on rotting Paper Birch.

That’s it for now, folks. I hope you enjoyed this selection of landscape images. If you did then you should also like my all-landscapes 2025 calendar, which is now available, as well as a new selection of greeting cards. You can find them here: https://www.geraldlisi.net/store-1

If you are reading this in an email please consider forwarding it to someone who might enjoy it. If you’re reading it on my website please consider subscribing to get my monthly post in your inbox. Just enter your email address at https://www.geraldlisi.net/ and make sure to respond to the confirmation email. Thanks and take care!

My Birdy Summer

I’m not much of a birder, which is to say that I’m not that good at it. I rarely keep lists while birding, and I don’t use eBird. Also, my birding by ear is very weak, and any good birder knows that recognizing songs and calls is the gateway to most of the avian universe. I could certainly go on about my shortcomings as a birder, but that would be tiresome, so let’s get on with how mediocre I am as a bird photographer.

My bird photography is crap on average, but you don’t see most of it. Judging by the images I choose to share here and on social media it’s pretty good. That’s an average again, taken from a quality range between “good enough” and “actually really good,” which is not to be mistaken for “great.”

In spite of all this self bashing of my credentials as a birder and bird photographer this post will be comprised entirely of bird photograph, (aside from this drivel and the captions of course). Because here’s the thing: I love birds. I meany I REALLY LOVE BIRDS. Ever since I decided to finally dig into my first Sibley Field Guide, perhaps fifteen years ago, I have been tumbling head over heels down a feather-lined tunnel system whose chambers echo with the sounds of countless syrinxes.

Most of this wonderful adventure has occurred so far in western Washington, which is an excellent setting for such a thing. But a change of environments can be quite rewarding for a birder, and when that change involves three thousand miles of distance the differences can be significant. So it was that my return to Vermont this June involved a great deal of excitement about the bird life here. Now, after a summer shared with dozens of bird species, and many hours spent trying to photograph them, I present you with selections from the good-enough, pretty-good, and actually-really-good results.

Ovenbirds create a major component of the soundscape in the Northern Forest in June and July. The swelling staccato of their songs has enchanted me since I first gave it a proper listen several years back. These warblers are outliers in their family. Natural selection in the forest floor habitats they share with thrushes has given them a distinctly thrush-y appearance. An exquisite example of convergent evolution. This Ovenbird has procured a juicy caterpillar, most likely for one of their chicks. The ability of Lepidopteran larvae to turn leaves into protein and fat enables hundreds, if not thousands, of bird species to feed their rapidly-growing young.

The voices of Red-eyed Vireos are the most heard by this bird nerd during the summer in the northern Green Mountains. Their deceptively simple songs come from all directions, at short intervals, all day long. Getting a good look at one on the other hand is no simple matter. Their entire bodies can be hidden behind the leaves of their deciduous canopy habitat. Of course when I did get a clear view of this one it was in the deep shade, where my equipment performs poorly, but Red-eyed Vireos were far to big a part of my birdy summer to be left out of this collection.

Common Yellowthroats are one of the easier warblers to spot since they live their lives at or below eye level in wet meadow and marsh edges. Olive and yellow feathers are common in this large, delightful family of song birds, but an adult male Common Yellowthroat’s black mask with white border above and yellow throat and breast below give a positive ID of this species.

Tufted Titmouse in Eastern Hemlock.

These larger cousins of chickadees have similar habits and charms, and they have crests! They are not so common as Black-capped Chickadees though, and I still get excited every time I see one.

Broad-winged Hawks are very vocal, with a distinct whistling call. Once I learned that call I quickly realized that these forest hawks are all over central Vermont. I was lucky enough to have this juvenile frequent the woods by my home.

These young Wild Turkeys were just poults when I first saw them. Here I barely managed to catch them fleeing into the forest yet again. Their mom taught them well.

Here's half of the breeding pair of Common Loons that claim a beloved local pond as their nesting territory. A friend of mine took me for a paddle in search of them and their chicks one July morning, and the loons obliged us! I remembered well how beautiful these icons of wild waters are, but was also struck by how big they are.

The loon chicks mostly stuck together, and a parent was always nearby. At this point they were still entierly dependant on thei parents' fishing skills, but learning to catch their own must have come very soon.

Bluejay in White Ash. A childhood favorite of mine, as for many other I'm sure, before I knew about warblers, vireos, wrens, kinglets and so many other kinds of birds. I still love Bluejays of course, and all of the other corvids.

Blackburnian Warbler in Paper Birch.

No close ups of this bird for me. Typical of many Wood Warblers, they sing their songs from high in the trees where even a long lens, spotting scope or a pair of binoculars often won't provide a good look. It's when they're silently foraging on lower branches that those of us who obsess about seeing these birds are most often finally rewarded.

This Northern Parula was one of my lifers (first sighting of a species) of the summer. In typical warbler fashion I heard their songs many times and repeatedly craned my neck for extended periods of time before I actually got a decent view of this guy singing.

Black and White Warblers nave a foraging style like that of the nuthatches, gleaning insects and spiders from bark rather than leaves as they wind their way down trunks and branches.

I was surprised to hear this American Redstart singing in late August, weeks after the songs of most other birds had stopped. Here he listens to another male who is singing nearby. With this year's young now raised this territorial behavior most likely is about control of foraging grounds.

This Black-throated Green Warbler female gifted me many nice glimpses as she hunted in the trees of my backyard. Unlike many warbler species whose females lack the brights colors of males Black-throated Green females have the same basic plumage patterns as males, minus the namesake black throat.

Black-throated Blue Warblers were perhaps the most exciting lifer for me this summer. This male in Plainfield was the second individual I had the pleasure of seeing and photographing.

Moving from one family of small, colorful birds to another, I am happy to leave you with this female Ruby-throated Hummingbird. After repeated unsuccessful stakeouts of this Bee Balm patch my persistence was finally rewarded with the shoot that yielded this shot of her hovering between sips of nectar.

Sixteen pictures of fifteen species of birds is a very small sample of my birdy summer, but I think this is about as long as a post should be. If you’re still with me I thank you for your time and attention. I do hope it was rewarded. May you cross paths with many birds, and allow their feathers, voices and behaviors to draw your attention away from less wonderful things.