Year of the Snake (and much more)

Wow. The past year has been a wild one. I broke a personal record, aged another year, crossed the U.S. border for the first time, and participated in my first team sport since 2019. The Zootown Arts and Community Center hosted a third Missoula Bird Nerds art show, and Lucy and I created and sold over 30 2026 calendars to raise money for a new camera.

This post is a collection of highlights from my year, from birds to butterflies, snakes to salamanders.

January. Missoula remains covered with snow, and shrikes are everywhere. A Barred Owl huddles against a Ponderosa, while a Great-horned Owl fluffs its feathers and begins to hoot. Most mornings are spent in a hut, staring at a hole in the ice and hoping we feel a tug on the ice-fishing rod. Doves flush, startled into the air by a massive Red-tailed Hawk as it glides into our yard. A Prairie Falcon watches over the partridges and cottontails at MPG Ranch, while I spend a freezing morning photographing steam rising from Rock Creek. A Great-horned Owl performs the gross feat of regurgitating (fancy word for throwing up) a pellet.

February. House Finches and chickadees keep a lookout for Sharp-shinned Hawks, spending their days as adorable balls of feathers. A dove is caught and consumed by the bird-eating hawk, feathers everywhere. Cedar Waxwings fill up on Juniper berries in the Mission Valley. Killdeer and American Tree Sparrows comb the shores of the Clark Fork, wading and hopping through snow. A family of Muskrats frolics in the ponds of Council Grove State Park. We spend a weekend near Georgetown Lake and watch Gray Jays chase each other through the overcast sky. On the way back from the lake, a Bobcat rests on the side of the highway, snow speckling its back. We spend a week in Pennsylvania, attend two Flyers games and watch clouds of grackles and Snow Geese take flight.

March. Winter still isn’t over, in fact snow continues to pile on the ground. Another trip to the Mission Valley reveals a Long-eared Owl – an elusive species with comical eyebrows. A Great Blue Heron along the Clark Fork preens and fixes me with a beady stare as I take pictures. Waters warm and we begin fishing up Rock Creek, where chickadees and eagles abound. Mountain and Chestnut-backed Chickadees frolic around suet feeders, joined by juncos and squirrels. Canada Geese begin chasing each other through the waterways of Lee Metcalf NWR. My 12th birthday comes around, and our trip to Freezeout Lake is full of blizzards, hawks, and larks. A cottontail huddles against a rock shelf adjacent to a set of railroad tracks. Snow Geese whirl into the air like a cloud, lit by the overcast sun. Male turkeys swell and gobble along Rock Creek Rd.

April. I begin basketball, and am greeted every evening by a returning robin. The waterfowl too are settling down in pairs as the Osprey return to Montana’s waterways. Squirrels scavenge peanuts from the melting ground, glaring at anything who comes to close. A honeybee pollinates the early blooms, buzzing frantically from flower to flower. Ducks and swallows return to Kelly Island in full force, including a beautiful male Wood Duck. Geese lay their eggs, guarding them ferociously. We have a run in with a cow Moose as well as an escaped peacock. Mayflies hatch and trout rise to meet them, snatching them from the water’s surface.

May. Our neighbor’s tree blooms. Red-winged Blackbirds seem to erupt from the reeds at Lee Metcalf. Male Cinnamon Teals float serenely on the water’s surface, often accompanied by a female or two. A California Quail begins to display to his females, and I manage to imitate his call well enough I earn a peek from behind a log. Baby goslings abound, little yellow pom-poms skittering this way and that. Our trip to the West Coast rolls around and I am met by beautiful sunrises, inquisitive wrens, steller Steller’s Jays, and even earn a glare from a Hudsonian Whimbrel. Crabs scuttle to and fro, skittering across the mussel-covered rocks. I meet many eagles and ravens, not to mention the gulls.

June. The Salmonfly hatch arrives and the trees running along Rock Creek are alive with 3-inch long bugs. A Belted Kingfisher calls out as she torpedoes downstream. Butterflies are back in full force, and the first batch of American Robins have left the nest. A cow moose rests with her baby, and a massive Rubber Boa slithers (albeit slowly) across the road. Hummingbirds work out their problems and manage to hang out with me for a while. A Red-tailed Hawk shoots out of the forest, snake clenched in his talons. Sandhill Crane colts peek out of a patch of daisies and fawns gallop full speed ahead across lawns. A Gray Catbird meows from a dense bush while waxwings trill above her.

July. We spend the evening jumping into Rock Creek until our rock slips into the mountain’s shadow. I develop a relationship with the local Rufous Hummingbirds, who allow their picture every now and then. Common Nighthawks busy themselves in the important task of controlling the exploding mosquito populations while Spotted Sandpipers patrol the bank beneath them. Thistles bloom and flycatchers snatch bugs from the air all day. I watch a Garter Snake peek out of the current before swimming away. Above it, Rough-winged Swallows flutter through the air snatching bugs from the warm, summer air. Meanwhile, an American Pika hops across a talus field, letting out her characteristic squeals.

August. Wilson’s Phalaropes and Lesser Yellowlegs dip in and out of the murky pondwater of Lee Metcalf. A pheasant crows somewhere in the nearby rushes, sending Red-winged Blackbirds flying. A pair of Soras dash out from the reeds at Council Grove State Park. Mourning Doves coo in a parking lot before dashing away into the bushes. A family of raccoons fill their bellies on elderberries along the Clark Fork. The resident foxes get into a hissy fit with a visiting flock of Canada Geese. Butterflies, bees, and grasshoppers continue to amaze and entertain. A massive spider catches a skipper and wraps it in a silk cocoon. Eastern Kingbirds adorn every bush along the Clark Fork, begging chicks attended by busy adults. A ladybug stops by the alley.

September. Cedar Waxwings gorge themselves on elderberries, while keeping a wary eye on the sky. A Gray Hairstreak returns to our alley, dazzling me and Lucy with its beauty. Flocks of goldfinches force sunflower heads to droop as the little birds swarm the plants. A cottontail hops around the neighbor’s yard, dodging sprinkler heads. Cabbage Whites flutter furiously, trying to catch a female unawares. Pigeons applaud an invisible act, as they clap the air with the wings, lifting off into the sky. A female Pileated Woodpecker regards me with beady eyes, red crest flared. Bumblebees hurtle through the air, knocking other flowers out of the way in their pollination. A Red-tailed Hawk, raids a squirrel nest, snatching a still sightless pup from its depths, mobbed by crows. A frisky fox dashes across a field, stopping to glance my way. Grouse season begins and long walks through the forest reveal little birds. Ponderosa Pines reveal long claw marks, a hint of bears. A trip to Lake Como for Lucy’s 9th birthday is filled with costumes, frogs, pinatas, and dragonflies. A late game of volleyball with friends caps off an amazing, laughter-filled weekend.

October. Bighorn Sheep graze along Rock Creek Road, horns curling to their weird eyes. Common Mergansers shoot through the air, roused from their leisurely swims down Rock Creek. Ruby-crowned Kinglets and Yellow-rumped Warblers forage in the turning cottonwoods. A male Pileated Woodpecker hammers determinedly at a decaying snag. Northern Pintails adorn the waters of Lee Metcalf, surrounded by American Coots. A Red-tailed Hawk circles lazily in a thermal above aspens trembling in the breeze. A shopping cart lies discarded in the irrigation ditch. Northern Flickers scour fresh-mown grass for worms and bugs. A trio of female Common Mergansers float downstream, grunting at each other. Muskrats jostle for space on a log before being pushed off by a new arrival. Hunting season begins, and a couple of inches of snow greets us the morning after the youth days. A salamander moves sluggishly across a dirt road, slowed by the chilly air.

November. A bull Moose blocks the road during an early drive along Rock Creek. Mule Deer bound across the road, fluffy and bouncing. Juncos, doves, and Song Sparrows pick up the birdseed scattered by finches and chickadees. Mallards give me sassy looks as I bike by. Hooded and Common Mergansers float down the Clark Fork, often accompanied by another of their kind. Driving home from hunting, we are shown beautiful sunsets as the sky is painted a wash of reds, oranges, yellows, greens, and blues. A selection of scoters stop by Fort Missoula, blown off course. We find Western Grebes, Barrow’s Goldeneyes and more Hooded Mergansers. A Black-capped x Mountain Chickadee hybrid hangs out at our feeders. Flocks of hundreds of Snow Geese drift over us as we hike and hunt. I harvest my first ever Elk, an accomplishment that seems crazy even now. A particularly late night in the woods is shown by golden light filtering through the trees. Ducks at the local fishing pond continue to entertain. Yet another trip to Lee Metcalf holds swans, teals, and American Tree Sparrows. A male Belted Kingfisher hurtles into the murky, duck-filled water of McCormick Park and comes up with a small fish. A Bald Eagle keeps a keen eye on Rock Creek, whose road is covered in frozen potholes. A squirrel bounds out of the trees, a massive pinecone clenched in its teeth. We take a little drive to the Siria Campground and spend the last minutes of daylight watching Bighorn Sheep make their way across the talus field. A cow Moose watches our truck warily, not sure what to make of us. Pines are sprinkled with snow and the river splattered with ice. Papa harvests a deer on the last day of the season, under a sky filled with nutcrackers and crossbills. 

December. Juncos return to our feeders in full force, pushed from the mountains by the dropping temperatures. A Sharp-shinned Hawk dashes through the yards, sending the chickadees into a tizzy. Downy Woodpeckers and Northern Flickers flock to our yard, filling up on our neighbor’s suet. A squirrel raids the feeder and sits, triumphant, beneath it. My first ever Montana duck hunt is filled with hungry goldfinches and curious sparrows, but no ducks. A Lesser Goldfinch stops by, but is sent flying by the Merlin. Finally, we harvest a duck – a female wigeon. House Sparrows play peekaboo in a fence, popping in and out. A trip to Tower Street reveals a pair of Pileated Woodpeckers and flickers. So. Many. Flickers. Bighorn Sheep continue to frolic on Rock Creek Rd. A water ouzel dives in and out of the creeks’ icy waters. Christmas arrives, and goes, closely followed by preparations for our big trip. We spend the next day in the Dallas Airport and arrive in Costa Rica at two in the morning the day afterward. A Mottled Owl peeks out at us from a bamboo grove, and hummingbirds twitter in the canopy. We stop by the San Luis canopy and see a Blue-and Gold Tanager, among many others. It turns out, squirrels LOVE plantains. Collared Aracaris and Montezuma Oropendolas flock to the Arenal Observatory Lodge. Bananaquit! A Sunbittern skulks near a bridge, hidden in shadows. A sloth stops by with her baby, making her way up a tree. Two tiger-herons wing out of the jungle and perch in a tree in front of us. The Nest Nature Center is brimming with toucans. A Red-eyed Tree Frog sneaks a glimpse of us, before melting back into the leaves. A Common Pauraque lies hidden in fallen leaves. Wood-rails probe banks as White-necked Jacobins fight over nectar. A vulture slowly rises in a thermal, ending a year and beginning another.

I hope you enjoyed this summary of the past year of 2025 and wish you a very eventful 2026.