The Fall 2022 Migration Count was completed from Sep 20th until Nov 15th with observers at the Mount Lorette site daily — including viewing equipment available to the public.  This is the 30th consecutive year of vigilant recording. Mount Lorette site, Observation map. Thank you to the observers and count coordinators.

See the Fall Count 2022 Daily Summaries

The Spring 2022 Migration Count has commenced and runs from Mar 1st to Apr 22nd with observers at the Mount Lorette site daily — including viewing equipment available to the public. If interested in visiting the site, we suggest that you visit after 3pm. We see the majority of the migrating eagles in the later afternoon. This is the 30th consecutive year of vigilant recording. Mount Lorette site, Observation map.

See the daily count reports.

Alberta’s Rocky Mountain Eagle Research Foundation reaches milestone in annual eagle count (March 17, 2022)

Dozens of volunteers spend their spring and fall in Kananaskis Country peering through binoculars and other telescopic lenses, searching the sky for migrating eagles.

The migration route runs north from the United States along the Rocky Mountains, all the way up to the Yukon. It was discovered by chance in 1992 by Des Allen and Peter Sherrington. It became known as the ‘Eagle Highway.’

Strong updrafts are created in the area by the mountains and prevailing wind that mean the eagles don’t have to expend much energy to travel vast distances.

Read more

Golden eagle migration count (Calgary Eyeopener, March 18, 2022)

Interview on the Calgary Eyeopener with David Gray and Angela Knight.

Listen to the interview

We are sorry to have to announce and greatly lament the untimely passing of our friend and fellow observer, Pat Farley.

He was a very special person, loving and gentle, one of the rare breed of men who truly cared about others and the world around him. He was a strong advocate of environmental conservation and justice.

I had the good fortune of having Pat as my assistant during many days of the count and the pleasure of spending some time with Patricia, his wife, another wonderful person who loves the outdoors and wildlife just as much as he did. Our long hours of work passed rapidly as we marveled at the beauty of the valley and commented on everything that we saw during the day.

In addition to being a hard worker and a great observer, Pat was very creative and went out of his way to make sure that everything was taken care of, always finding an opportunity to help whenever it was needed.

To quote Heinz Unger:

Pat has been such an important addition to the group – actually I should say, family – of observers and I can only imagine how much they’ll miss and how the RMERF will be able to replace him – BUT we’ll always remember him.

Pat will be greatly missed by us, and everyone who had the luck of knowing him.

By Ethan Denton

For those amongst us who have yet to see the famed movie, The Big Year, my 2021 would likely make little sense. I spent countless hours driving, waking well before dawn, and hiking many kilometres through varied terrain. I rushed out of family gatherings, paused my work, and skipped a few too many classes, chasing recklessly across the province after whatever avian vagrant materialized. Efforts which – even amongst the hardcore birding community – are fairly intense. Sure, the end goal was to beat the provincial Big Year record of 324 species, but a Big Year is about more than just the numbers, it’s about the memories, the places, the people, and, of course, the birds. Though there are so many great days to pick from, a few moments stand out above the rest. Lying in the sand on the shores of Lake Newell, with Red Knots, Black-bellied Plovers, and Ruddy Turnstones foraging mere metres away was the earliest of these moments. The Knots were particularly interesting to me, their russet undersides and immaculately scalloped backs doing little to belie the fact that these arctic breeders were midway through a harrowing 9,000 kilometre spring migration. Two weeks later, the enthralling performances put forth by boreal breeding warblers entranced myself and my friends, as we tallied over 120 species in two days in the birding mecca of Cold Lake. By the end of May I was cruising at 282 birds, and when I became the fastest person to ever hit 300 Albertan species in a year with my sighting of Black Swifts on June 16th, I was convinced I had a shot at the record.

Apart from painfully missing a Sagebrush Sparrow in my home county, the summer passed relatively quietly until the 26th of July, when reports came in of a pair of Sage Thrashers in the far southeast. As I was without a car at that point, I spent the night in a mall parking lot, waiting to be picked up in the morning by someone equally dedicated. Departing Calgary at 3am, moods were high, albeit a bit sleepy on my part. An hour out from our destination, however, a small flock of grouse burst out from the ditch and our car screeched to a halt. We exchanged looks, each confident that one of the grouse had been different. Sure enough, when we tracked down the flock once more, one stood taller than it’s companions – a female Greater Sage-Grouse! This species is struggling in Canada, and their sparse population makes them very hard to track down. The day didn’t end there. After successfully locating the Thrashers, we met up with another friend in Calgary, and by pure chance the three of us happened upon one of the rarest birds of the year, an adult Least Tern! Only the second occurrence of this tiny tern in Albertan history, and the bird was very accommodating, granting people great views all day.

Hard work through the fall was largely unsuccessful, as I added only a few species. Most of these were clean up species I had missed when they passed through in the Spring, such as Greater White-fronted Goose, or uncommon migrants like Brant and Red-throated Loon. With two months left to go, and the weather turning sour, the total sat at 322 and prospects for findable additions weren’t looking good. Fortunately for me, the birding deities dropped two big rarities close to home within a week of each other, and the additions of Pine Warbler and Eastern Towhee to my list meant I was now tied with the all-time record. The only reasonable thing to do now is sit back and be happy, right? No. Instead, I decided to drive my beat up Nissan down Northern logging roads through driving snow in search of the last possible species, a secretive gamebird of the north called the Willow Ptarmigan. Eventually I found myself following a tip down some logging roads near Grande Prairie, and after following tracks for a few hours, a dart of movement alerted myself and my companion to the presence of three snow white ptarmigan! For a few minutes, freezing fingers and empty stomachs were forgotten as we watched the charismatic little guys, before a passing truck flushed them into the forest. With this final addition to the list, I edged past the previous record of 324, and pushed my all-time Alberta number to 347. Success! Nonetheless, there is little doubt in my mind that as the years wear on and my memory weakens, it will be the sun-kissed hours spent simply observing, photographing, and interacting with the birds that will remain, not the numbers.