koleacount

August 9

As of this writing, 160 plover fans reported 265 kolea returned to Hawaii. Most people entered sightings in the REPORT tab on this site, but some emailed me through the CONTACT tab to share a picture.

Below is one of my favorites. On August 8, Carolyn Alameida took this shot through a Pupukea fence on Oʻahu’s North Shore. Although it’s not the clearest of photos, I love the enthusiasm in it. Carolyn saw this bird in a neighbor’s yard, remembered that someone wanted plover pictures, and came home to find this site. “I love the koleas,” she wrote. “Jill [Carolyn’s name for the bird] is at the house on the corner. I will look for her each day when I go walking.”

Carolyn calls this bird Jill.  

Another photo of a returnee that Suzan Harada sent to Sigrid Southworth who sent it to me. Suzan works at the Palehua baseyard on Tuesdays and photographed this bird on the hose August 5, 2025.

Other plover fans emailed to ask a question, the most common being, “Isn’t this [July and early August] early for kōlea returns?”

Well, no. This is the start of our fifth year of Hawaiʻi Audubon’s Kōlea Count project, and thanks to participants, we’re learning things. One is that late July and early August is normal for the birds’ arrivals here. This year, the first kōlea sighting was July 4^th in Mililani. A total of 71 returned birds were reported on this site in July.

In other kōlea doings, join us, and spread the word, about the Hawaiʻi Audubon Society’s annual Welcome Home Kolea Festival on September 6th from 10 AM to 2 PM at Magic Island, Ala Moana Beach Park.

Several partners will join us including the Hawaiʻi folks who make sparkling hop water in the cute kōlea cans. This nonalcoholic bubbly, available at Foodland, is considerably more expensive than other sparkling waters but the cans are worth it. I also like “Aloha in Every Bubble,” plus the beverage is locally made. The company’s explanation of the drink is here: Kōlea hop water.

You can help us afford to throw parties for these special birds, as well as carry on with Kōlea Count, by joining us as a member of the Hawaiʻi Audubon Society.

Thank you for emailing me notes through the contact tab to share photos or ask questions. We’re for the birds.

More kolea news coming soon. Stay tuned.

Chu-WEET,

Susan

Day-old kōlea chicks, Nome, Alaska.  © O.W. Johnson photo.

July 5, 2025

As of June 30^th, we completed our 5^th season of Kolea Count , a Hawaiʻi Audubon Society project. Thank you for entering your observations, and in that, helping us learn more about these much-loved native birds. The popular citizen science project continues, the new 2025-2026 season starting July 1st.

Because we so miss our perky prancing shorebirds after they leave, spotting the first kōlea return of summer is exciting. Plover fan, Pam O’Brien-Gongora, gets a gold star for reporting the first kōlea sighting near Mililani’s inline skate park on July 4^th.

Through Kōlea Count reports, we know that plovers returning this early is fairly common. In July, 2024, plover lovers recorded 58 kōlea on Oahu and Hawaii Island. Several sightings were small flocks on golf courses. Others were singles or pairs reported as looking skinny and tired.

As they should. Flying three-thousand miles nonstop in three-to-four days is an amazing and exhausting feat.

© Graphic by O.W. Johnson

Only the birds know why they come back to Hawaiʻi this early. Plover expert Wally Johnson says that July returnees either failed to raise chicks and gave up. Or the opposite. The birds had an excellent breeding season where chicks hatched, thrived and fledged in good time, allowing the parents to go home early. (I think of Hawaii as the kōlea’s home since they spend 9 months of the year here.)

Three kōlea eggs in a Nome tundra nest June , 2025.  Kōlea usually lay four. (Don’t see them?  Look below.) ©Susan Scott

As long as food supplies last, the summer’s chicks stay in Alaska, fattening up on bugs and berries for their great leap south. How these youngsters know where to go on their first migration is one of nature’s mysteries.

Nome residents call these nonbiting insects midges but some of us know them as gnats. Tundra insects provide chicks with ample food for fast growth. ©Susan Scott

If all goes well, this kōlea chick’s little wings will be flying in about one month. ©  O.W. Johnson

It’s a perilous journey for adults as well as chicks, making the plovers’ arrival deserving of celebration. Hawaiʻi Audubon has got that covered. We’ve planned our second annual Welcome Home Kōlea Festival for Saturday, September 6^th at Magic Island. Mark your calendars. The site reservation is confirmed. We will send reminders and times as the event grows closer.

Kōlea Nui and two young fans at the “Welcome Home Kolea Festival” last year at Magic Island. ©Susan Scott

Please report arrival dates from now …

Kōlea on rear-view mirror. ©Tiana Burdick

February 11, 2025

The kōlea season is going strong. Our birds are back, counters are counting, and plover lovers are sharing photos and stories that make my day. They’ll make your day too, as will the following results from your reports.

Thanks to Dr. Wendy Kuntz, biology professor at Kapiʻolani Community College and Hawaiʻi Audubon board member, we can see summaries of this season’s (2024) arrival data.

Most kōlea watchers reported seeing their first returnees in August.

From the Big Island: Our neighborhood kolea “Kula” was first spotted August 5, 2024 ~ 1:40pm. She arrived August 6th in 2022 & 2023. We’re happy, relieved, grateful she made it home! We’re enjoying Kula’s return…

A few birds arrived in July, either adults that failed to raise chicks or experienced adults that have this breeding thing down pat and fledged chicks early. Adult females usually return first.

From Kailua: Lady returned this morning, July 24, 2024.  This completes her 10th full cycle with us. Interestingly, she returned in August the first 4 years but has since been returning in the latter third of July. Her July return dates have been remarkably consistent.  Go, Lady.  Hoping her offspring are equally successful.

A September arrival, Oahu North Shore. Because kōlea begin dropping their breeding feathers (molting) while still sitting on eggs in Alaska, it’s impossible to tell males from females when the birds arrive in Hawaiʻi.  Some are mottled. This one is already wearing its winter outfit. ©Laura Zoller

Other kōlea watchers recorded birds arriving in their yards or parks as late as November. These are probably the summer’s chicks, which stay in Alaska as long as the weather is fair and bugs and berries are abundant. We should give these late comers a warm welcome. They gained enough weight to make the flight, survived Arctic predators, and successfully navigated to Hawaiʻi on their own.  Bravo, kids.

This parent is guarding its newly-hatched chicks. Migratory shorebirds have so many obstacles to overcome it’s a miracle of nature that any survive at all. ©Wally Johnson

This Citizen Science project is in its fourth year with some of us counting year after year, and others joining the fun for the first time. There’s no wrong way to count kōlea. All data, including zero, is useful. Rich Downs, another Hawaiʻi Audubon board member (and Hui Manu o Kū leader) is compiling KōleaCount data with eBird data to see where our birds spend winters, and in what concentrations.  Results are pending at season’s end.

But besides numbers, locations, and dates, KōleaCount adds joy to counters lives. I know this from my own experience and from the notes and photos participants add with their observations.

Here are a few:

Some kōlea are extra friendly. From Mililani: This bird loves our son’s (new place, just moving) backyard! Isn’t very afraid …

Count me in. please. ©Tom Fake

November 22, 2024

December 1st starts this winter’s annual kolea count. On this site’s contact tab, please tell me where you want to count and I’ll sign you up. I created these counting sites from maps but you can count anywhere you live, work, or walk. I enjoy driving to new places to count kōlea. It gives me mini-outings on my own island.

This kōlea seems to be leading a parade of ʻakekeke, or ruddy turnstones. The species often forage together. Puʻuiki Cemetery in Waialua is one of the places I count. ©Susan Scott

Although our plovers have been arriving in Hawaiʻi since August, we start the count in December to give the summer’s offspring time to get settled and get counted.

Chicks hatched on the Alaska tundra in late June/early July forage for insects and berries there as long as weather permits, sometimes as late as November. When the snows fall, the kids head south. Alone. How kōlea and other migratory shorebirds find Hawaiʻi, or any other Pacific Islands, is one of nature’s miracles.

A newly hatched kōlea chick in Alaska. Legs are adult-sized at hatching.  ©Wally Johnson

Shorebird parents don’t feed their chicks but follow the youngsters as they forage. Parents sit on their chicks to warm them when weather turns stormy. ©Wally Johnson

Not all offspring survive the journey, and some that do run into trouble when they land in a territory established by an adult. Young birds that find their own space, and make it through the winter are hardy survivors. E komo mai, kids.

When this young plover (left) trespassed on another’s patch, the established owner put up a fight. The squabble occurred in Punchbowl Cemetery. The newcomer moved on. (First year birds have no breeding colors.) ©Susan Scott

You can’t do this wrong. Besides helping gather data about the birds, counting kōlea gives us special moments to appreciate the marvel we call kōlea.

Four kōlea: From left, the new kōlea-in-tuxedo flag, mascot Kōlea Nui, volunteer Andres Jojoa Ortega in his EVERY KŌLEA COUNTS T-shirt, and lower right, a curious resident kōlea checking out its namesakes. © Christiaan Phleger

October 16, 2024

What if we throw a party and no one comes? That was my worry when we Hawaiʻi Audubon Society board members decided in September to have a kōlea festival in October.

Because August marks the height of enthusiasm over our Pacific Golden-Plovers’ arrivals, I thought October might be too late for celebrating the birds’ return. My other concern was short lead time. Someone had to get a park permit, gather volunteers, make flyers, create activities, order flags, and transport tents, tables and gear.  And after arranging all that, we then had to get the word out to kōlea fans to join us.

Well, someone did all that and more. Hawaiʻi Audubon’s new Outreach and Education Manager, Elena Arinaga (below), planned, organized, and advertised the “Welcome Home Kōlea Festival” so successfully we’re calling it the first annual kōlea party.

Hawaiʻi Audubon’s Team Kōlea: Foreground from left, Operations Manager Laura Doucette, me, mascot Kōlea Nui, and Education Manager, Elena Arinaga. Left background are Taylor Kim and Charlotte Bender, two of four Kapiolani Community College students who helped with the festival. 

Everyone loved Kōlea Nui, the guest of honor at the festival. Kailua artist, Kathe James, of “Events in Apparel,” custom-made the outstanding costume for Hawaiʻi Audubon.  ©Susan Scott

MJ Mazurek gives Kōlea Nui (AKA Josh Fisher) a cold drink of water. Even with an ice-pack vest and a head fan, hugging and dancing with children is hot work. Volunteers took turns wearing the costume. ©Susan Scott

Representatives of the new drink, Kōlea Sparkling Hop Water, (zero alcohol, zero calories) shared the Kōlea Festival with us. Everyone enjoyed the free samples, as well as the company’s logo. ©Susan Scott

As to my fretting over dates and details, silly me. Hawaiʻi’s plover lovers are as remarkable as the birds themselves.

This sign demanded a photo stop during a Hilo visit last year. The kōlea (upper left image on sign) is apparently the Chiefess Kapiʻolani Elementary School’s mascot. ©Wendy Kuntz

August 12, 2024

One of the kōlea I visit on my winter morning walks returned on Saturday, August 10th. I call the bird Bougie because he forages in a field behind a row of bougainvillea bushes (below) spaced apart enough for me to peek through without getting punctured

“Welcome home, my friend,” I whispered, feeling teary as I watched the bird run-and-peck, run-and-peck.  “You did it.”

Bougie has returned to this space off Crozier Drive in Waialua for at least five years.  (Zebra dove in foreground.) Our phone cameras may not take the best distance photos, but they’re in our pockets to capture the moment.

After seeing kōlea in Alaska in June, their miracle of migration moves me more than ever. To know that this little bird just flew 3,000 miles, nonstop, in three days, well, then some things in the world are right and good.

From Wally Johnson’s tracking studies. © O.W. Johnson

I’m not the only one to have my spirits lifted by a bird. As of this writing, kolea fans have reported 288 returns on the kōlea count website. (I have to continually increase that number as I write this.) Thank you for reporting your birds’ returns on the site’s REPORT tab and for sharing comments and photos.  Below are a few, among many, that make me smile:

• “First one to come back home! So happy to see my little friend! Kinda skinny, but looks good overall. So happy!!!”
• “Our friend is back!”
• “Riding in the NaWahine triathlon saw this Kolea on Kahala Avenue & filled me with new energy! Made me happy.”
• “After filling up my car at Sam’s Club gas station, I looked up to see my first returned plover of the year. I felt good!”
• “Saw my first Kolea at Maunawili Elementary on Aug 1st. So excited!!!”

July 25, 2024, Oahu, undisclosed location) © Ann Egleston

August 9, 2024, Kamehameha soccer field, Hilo ©Jo-Ann Garrigan

July 25, Niu Valley,  © Patricia Johnson

August 2, Hilo Public Library, © Jo-Ann Garrigan

August 6, Kuahelani Park, Mililani © Tempe Kapela

July 30, Waiau district Park, © Evelyn Nakanishi

I get it. The plover-return season makes me feel good too, from seeing the birds themselves to hearing from other people who also love them.

On Saturday, my happy feeling even extended to cats, unusual for me given a cat allergy, as …

A kōlea on the Nome tundra. ©Susan Scott

July 8, 2024

Hawaiʻi walks are always good, but not quite as good from May through July, when our kōlea are in Alaska. We plover lovers feel the birds’ absence, and often wonder how they’re doing with their summer job of chick-rearing.

Some of us went to see for ourselves From June 24-28, the Hawaiʻi Audubon Society  sponsored its second Kōlea Quest trip to Nome. And once again, we had the privilege of accompanying world plover authority, Dr. O. Wally Johnson, and his two research associates from Anchorage. (Photo below. Wally, brown coat, in center.)

©Laura Doucette

For Hawaiʻi residents accustomed to friendly kōlea that prance around our backyards and eat scrambled eggs on our lanais, Alaska kōlea hold a surprise: While breeding, the birds view humans as predators, up there with foxes, ravens, jaegers, and all the other Arctic animals hunting for food. With predators on the prowl for nutritious eggs and chicks, the lives of plovers, and all ground-nesting birds on the tundra, are filled with life-and-death drama. Camouflage, hunkering down, and holding motionlessness are keys to survival, making finding even one kōlea nest a challenge.

Wally’s long-time field workers, Paul and Nancy Brusseau, scouting for kōlea. ©Susan Scott

Members of our group looking for birds. ©Susan Scott

But we were there with the experts. Over several days, the experienced researchers found three plover nests with eggs. Photos below. (O.W. Johnson USGS research permit #20957.)

©Susan Scott

©Susan Scott

And on our last day, one of those nests produced the thrill of a lifetime for kōlea fans: two new hatchings and one pipping (and peeping) egg. The first tiny hatchling was already running around the nest.

©Laura Doucette

Like chickens, kōlea parents don’t feed their offspring. As soon as hatchlings’ downy feathers are dry, the kids are out and about, foraging for insects and berries. Parents follow the best they can, warming and protecting the chicks as needed.

Wally posed this question: If we tall humans have a hard time finding a nest, how do little birds do it? This photo, taken by me on my belly, as Wally suggested, is a kōlea-eye view of the tundra. ©Susan Scott

In this bug-filled, light-all-night environment, chicks grow up fast. In one month, baby plovers can fly. Parents fly south in August, leaving their offspring on the tundra to fatten up as long as food is available. That can last into October, or even November, depending on weather. When snow falls, the summer’s chicks migrate to warm wintering grounds, instinct being their only guide.

This was the Hawaiʻi Audubon Society’s second trip to Nome with Wally, his study partners, …