Prairie Wanderings: Snowy owl reported at reservoir
Ranger Neal Whitaker at the Marion Reservoir called with an exciting report: He has sighted a snowy owl amid the rocks on the face of the dam feeding on what appeared to be a Canada goose.
Snowy owls are rare and irregular visitors in Kansas, so I was determined to see this one. But I was unable to head for the dam until an hour later when Elaine and I searched eagerly for the noteworthy immigrant. For now, it eluded us.
The snowy owl is a large, 20-27 inch (50-68 cm) bird, mostly white with varying quantities of dark flecks. The young have the most marks; adult males have the least. They have heavily feathered feet, but no ear tufts.
This large owl breeds in the Arctic tundra. Herb Bartel, who spent more than six years near Barrow at the northern tip of Alaska, tells about taking his large dog, a collie-Samoyed cross, on walks in the tundra of the Arctic Coastal Plain. Being very protective of their territory during the breeding season, snowy owls would fly quietly from behind and strafe the intruding dog, emitting a brief squeal. Herb described his astonishment when looking over his shoulder and seeing the approaching large white owl with a four or five foot wing span and big yellow eyes coming at him.
Lemmings are a classic example of regular cycles of population density. Every three or four years, they become extremely abundant only to decline sharply in numbers, even within a single season. This fluctuation, of course, effects their predators. During exploding lemming populations, the snowy owl lays twice as many eggs as in poor years. When the lemming population declines, the owls' southward winter migration reaches into the contiguous United States for their food supply. Occasionally they come as far south as Kansas where they feed on various rodents and other small mammals as well as some birds.
As a migrant from the far north where the summer's sun shines around the clock, this owl hunts for its prey during the day. Crows in the Midwest commonly mob owls during the day when our native owls are less active. When crows mob the snowy owl, however, they don't realize their mistake until the owl launches out for a strike and the mob has one less crow.
The presence of the snowy owl here this winter has aroused wide interest. Serious birders from as far away as Lawrence and Kansas City came to see the Arctic visitor. At a local restaurant, we met Irwin and Carol Hoogheem. Irwin is president of the Manhattan Audubon Society and came to see the owl. Not all were able to find the elusive bird, however.
Wildlife photographer Gerald Wiens of Marion was able to take several striking photos of the elusive bird.
