
The leafless branches and dry cattails stalks along the South Platte River gave a bleak feel to the day when I arrived to do a bit of birdwatching along the river on a winter morning. The sun shone brightly but the mercury hovered around 28 degrees. Certainly, no birds would be about this time of year.
But the waterfowl swimming on the river didn’t seem to know that. In fact, winter is a prime time to see ducks along the Platte as it flows through the metro area.
Dozens of mallards dotted the river, as well as gadwalls, shovelers, ring-billed ducks and various teal. Flashes of white among them signaled the presence of buffleheads, small black ducks with large white heads. There were many pairs of goldeneyes and I hoped to see a bit of their exotic courtship behavior in which the male rears up, trumpets at the sky, and spouts water to impress the female. Late fall and winter are courting time for ducks, when attentive watchers can see some showy displays as the males flutter, splash, rear up, swim in patterns, dance around and sound off, all to impress a prospective mate.
Ducks can be seen anywhere along the river, from Chatfield Reservoir to Confluence Park. On this particular morning, I had parked at the Carson Nature Center in South Platte Park, just west of Mineral Avenue and South Santa Fe Drive, then walked south along the bike path that paralleled the river. A red-tailed hawk soared overhead. A song sparrow called from the willows. I heard the rattling cry of a kingfisher flying upriver, then spotted the blue-gray bird with the Bart Simpson head crest as it flew onto a branch overhanging the water. A kestrel, a falcon the size of a robin, fluttered over a nearby field, then pounced on something in the grass.
About a quarter mile south of a pedestrian bridge over the river, a dirt side trail led to a bird blind with a view across a pond. The morning sun lit flotillas of waterfowl, their plumage glowing emerald green, dazzling white, black, chestnut red—a treasure of nature in the middle of the city on a quiet winter morning.
— contributed by Mary Taylor Young