Some birds have arrived early this year because of the onset of spring-like weather. Flocks of migrating waterfowl are arcing across the sky in western Minnesota.

Long skeins of waterfowl, V-shaped and wavering up and down, are angling northward, following instincts forever lost on humans.

It's time for a migration of our own: westward.

Early arrivals from the south are snow geese, intermingled with a scattering of Ross's geese, white-fronted geese and, of course, Canada geese. Tundra and trumpeter swans have joined, too.

Although the marshes that dot the farmland of western Minnesota remain mostly frozen, the northbound geese are joined by early migrating ducks such as mallards and pintails. These ducks, along with geese, rest on the ice during the day, and also roost there at night. Or they gather on stretches of open water in rivers and flowages. However, the waterfowl flock to farm fields, usually twice daily, morning and evening, to feed on waste grain.

As March wanes, ice slowly recedes from the local marshes. That is when additional species of waterfowl show up. If your timing is right, you can see 20 or more species in one day, even on one marsh.

Spring offers the best waterfowl viewing of the year. Males are dressed in their colorful breeding plumage, and are often absorbed in courtship activities. They are less wary and, thus, more visible.

Part of the breeding ritual involves courtship flights. Male ducks numbering from a few to as many as 25 will chase a single hen while in flight. Each drake does its best to woo the unpaired hen.

Most duck species engage in courtship flights to some degree, but the puddle ducks — especially mallards, pintails, wigeons, gadwalls and green-winged teal — are much more acrobatic during courtship than the diving duck species (scaup, redheads, ring-necks and canvasbacks).

Occasionally, giant flocks of waterfowl will rise in unison from a marsh, often put to flight by a passing bald eagle. Nearly as impressive as the sight is the sound. As huge flocks of waterfowl rise, thousands of wings beating the air will generate a low rumble, like distant thunder. Combine that with the clamor of their anxious calling, and the birds create an event that is hair-raising and a visual-and-audio experience of a lifetime.

Bill Marchel is an outdoors photographer and writer. He lives near Brainerd. Reach him at bill@billmarchel.com.