Snow birds
A wintering flock of trumpeter swans has put Monticello on the map.
© Torsten Muller
Trumpeter swans make a landing at Swan Park in Monticello, where they're fed daily in winter.
It's winter in Monticello, and the livin' is easy.
For trumpeter swans, the largest water bird in North America, the Mississippi River town is a virtual Club Med, thanks to balmy waters from the nuclear power-generating plant upstream and a daily all-you-can-eat spread of dried corn.
The first swans showed up in the winter of 1986, as Sheila Lawrence was feeding the ducks and geese in the yard of her riverside home. They appreciated her hospitality, and every year more came, first by the dozens, then by the hundreds.
Now 1,000 trumpeter swans are wintering in Monticello, apparently the highest concentration east of the Rocky Mountains. Hundreds of them belly up to Lawrence's buffet every day, consuming 1,400 to 1,500 pounds of corn, with a little help from ducks and geese.
It's quite a sight. In the morning, the big birds begin to congregate on the water in front of her house, feet skimming the water as they glide to a landing on outspread wings of 7 to 8 feet. Sticking close to kin, they soon turn the shoreline into a raucous playground, blustering, showing off and squabbling over insults, real or imagined.
The noise is the first thing everyone notices. From the street, it's a buzz, like a nest of angry hornets; from the river's edge, it's cacophony, a high-pitched tumult of honks, squawks and screeches.
"I think they need to tune their trumpets," joked John Vander Louw of Woodbury, who came to see the swans with his wife, Lyndis.
Onlookers also have increased by the hundreds, sometimes clogging the narrow, dead-end residential street with cars and even tour buses. The tiny "park" next to Lawrence's house, where people can watch the swans from behind a rail fence, actually is a storm-sewer easement, and there's never been space for parking.
The city considered moving the swans to a real city park on the other end of town but it turned out Mississippi Drive is the perfect place for wintering swans, said parks superintendent Adam Hawkinson. There's a shallow shelf on which swans can rest, the current is slow and there's no boat or people traffic -- although trumpeter swans are aggressive with each other, they're very skittish around humans.
'It's been a really good deal; we just wish we had another half-acre," Hawkinson says.
In Monticello, the swans tolerate only Lawrence, who moves among them with slow, measured steps, filling tubs and throwing out corn. Sometimes, photographers ask if they can get even closer, but she always says no.
"The swans are right here, just in front of them," she says. "There's no other place you can see something like this around here."
A good show
Every morning about 10:30, Lawrence starts up the auger that moves corn through a pipe, from the gravity wagon in her driveway down to the river, where she empties it from buckets into tubs. Sometimes, she pulls out binoculars to better see the band number on a bird, which she reports to the Minnesota Department of Natural Resources.
It's a lot of work, and she does it every day for as long as the swans stay, usually from mid-November through February.
"When it's 20 below, I think, "Geez, I don't want to go out there,"' she says. "But they still want me out there."
In February, parents start to drive away the 1-year-old cygnets, and the 3- and 4-year-olds start to select mates, whom they will keep for life. That's when the amorous behaviors begin.
"You can tell in various ways -- how they hold their necks, how they hold themselves," Lawrence explained. "They'll kick their feet, and raise themselves out of the water."
It's a show that onlookers appreciate.
"It's really entertaining," said Julie Gunther of Eagan, who was visiting with her husband, Steve. "It's amazing that something that big can be so graceful."
Rebounding population
Considering trumpeter swans weren't even seen in Minnesota between 1884 and 1966, when Hennepin Parks started to breed them in captivity, the size of Monticello's swan population is astounding.
By 1930, trumpeter swans were thought to have vanished from the entire United States. Then a few nests were found near hot springs in a remote part of Yellowstone. More nests were found in Alaska in the 1950s, and Minnesota was the first state allowed to collect eggs from them, using funds contributed by taxpayers via the "chickadee check off," said Steve Kittelson, the DNR's trumpeter swan restoration coordinator.
In 1933, the entire country had only 50 breeding swans; now, Monticello alone has three to four times that many, perhaps 1,100 swans total. Kittelson estimates another 450 winter along the Otter Tail River in western Minnesota, and several hundred more in quiet pockets along the central and upper Mississippi and St. Croix. A few go to Oklahoma and Arkansas for the winter, but most stay in Minnesota year-round.
Ideally, Minnesota's swans would resume previous migration patterns and head south for the winter, Kittelson says. But many of those were shot, he said, and others have found habitat near locks, dams and power plants that didn't exist 200 years ago.
"We probably can't go back to that," he said. "We do worry about having all our swans in one basket. It isn't good to grow those numbers indefinitely."
Kittelson expects Monticello's numbers soon will level off. And even though it may not be natural to have more than half of Minnesota's trumpeter swans congregating there, it's safe. Thanks to Sheila Lawrence's vigilance, the swans still are standoffish toward people, as they should be.
Lawrence, meanwhile, is happy to feed however many swans show up at her door. Now she's retired and has the time, though even when she was working, she switched to nights so she could spend more time with them.
"The trumpeters have really captured my heart," she says. "If you watch, you realize what special birds they are. They're so majestic, so graceful and beautiful; they're just beautiful birds. They're just amazing.''
Trip Tips: Swan-watching in Monticello
Getting there: From the Twin Cities, head west on I-94 and take the first Monticello exit, which leads to County Road 75 (East Broadway). At the first stoplight, turn right onto 39, drive a quarter-mile and turn left onto Mississippi Drive. Drive past the park and around the cul de sac, parking on the south side of the road only. Observe posted signs and do not block residents’ driveways.
When to go: Lawrence feeds the birds from around 11 a.m. every day from mid-November through February, and it’s fun to watch the swans flying in. However, for quieter observation, you may want to visit earlier or later. Swans also can be seen downstream, just inside the city limits at Battle Rapids, where there’s a clearing off County Road 39.
For details on planning a swan-watching getaway, see Winter weekend in Monticello.
Donations: Every six days, Lawrence has to have the local feed store refill the gravity wagon with corn. To contribute, put money in the box at Swan Park or send to the Trumpeter Swan Society, 3800 County Road 24, Maple Plain, Minn. 55359 (the national group shares office space with the Three Rivers Park District, formerly Hennepin Parks, at Baker Park Reserve).
What to wear: Standing is a cold business, and the warmer you dress, the longer you can watch.
Taking children: Make sure they read the 1970 classic “Trumpet of the Swan’’ by E.B. White, author of “Charlotte’s Web’’ and “Stuart Little.’’ It’s about Louis, born without a voice, and Sam, a boy who loves wild things.
Information: 763-295-2700, www.monticellochamber.com; www.trumpeterswansociety.org.
