Along Iowa’s rural roads, on an early summer day, you have a good chance of seeing Bobolinks. They’ll be flying over a pasture or perched on fences.
I first got to know them in my neighbor’s grassy field, twenty years ago. Walking there one May morning, I discovered that Bobolinks had arrived in the night. They flew great looping circles around my head, checking me out. Deciding that I wasn’t dangerous, I hope.
The birds were singing as they flew. It was a musical medley of bells and bubbles and something like laughter, mixed and overlapping. As if each Bobolink had many songs inside and was trying to sing them all at once.
Recorded by Diane Porter
I counted the swirling birds. Seven males. Males arrive first on their breeding ground. The females arrive about a week later, giving the males a chance to stake out their territories.
Modest females
Males are unmistakable, mostly black, with big white patches on the back. Females look completely different, like large, earth-toned sparrows. For a few days, courting pairs chase and flirt. They twist through the air in close pursuit and posture toward one another.
Soon the females will be much harder to notice. They’ll be down in the grass, inconspicuous as they build nests, which they do with no help from the males, and then they’ll be incubating the eggs.
Grass is their home
Bobolinks nest only on the ground, amid a big expanse of grass unencumbered by trees. Twenty years ago, the field next door was good habitat for Bobolinks. However, the field was never burned or mowed, and over the years Red Cedar trees sprang up. Non-native Autumn Olive trees crowded the field too, and invasive species of weeds took over.
Sadly, I watched the number of nesting Bobolinks dwindle year by year. In 2015, only one pair came to the grassy field.
The following year, there were none.
The same trend is happening throughout North America. Grasslands are a diminishing ecosystem. And when grasses disappear, birds who need grasslands disappear also.
The field restored
A few years ago, a new owner started managing the field to improve wildlife habitat. She removed the trees and burned the encroaching weedy shrubs. The grasses came back. The field looks like prairie again.
This spring, I walked out on the field one morning and heard the song of a Bobolink. The bird circled around my head as if in greeting. In the distance I heard another.
My neighborhood has Bobolinks again!
And then they’re gone…
One day I’ll go out to the field and find the Bobolinks have all gone. On their way to South America. Most will spend our winter in Argentina.
Theirs is a long journey. Cornell Lab of Ornithology made a map showing where Bobolinks are found. In their round trip migration, they fly 12,000 miles.
Red is where they breed. Blue is where they winter. Yellow is where they are found during migration.
I’m thrilled to see them again this year. Oh please, beloved Bobolinks, return next year.
I must get out there and see if I can find a bobolink and dickcissel or two this summer. People who restore habitats are heroes to me. What a lovely story! I can hear the laughter in bobolink's song. xo
I see that Phil Specht posted your piece on his Facbook page. If we're talking bobolinks, Phil is the NE Iowa expert!