Zugunruhe

Muizenberg

2012-02-21T08:47:00.000-08:00

I didn't know Germany had surfer-dudes until I met Christopher. At about 6'6" and all muscle, he looks like a page out of a California surfing magazine. Needless to say, as he stares down at you and you try not to stare at his beach blond hair, you get the impression he has ridden some serious waves. So, when he called me and asked if I was interested in wind-surfing Muizenberg beach, I said I wasn't keen on surfing but was keen on some Atlantic Ocean action.

We met and loaded up into his rental beetle and headed out to the beach. The winds were strong off the ocean, and the language barrier was finally broken for me when I realized that Christopher wasn't just a surfer, but a kite-surfer! We pulled up and the sky was a myriad of kites belonging to his brethren, and he wasted no time getting his gear and heading out into the chilly waters of Vaalsbaai. I, on the other hand, had some ornithological fish to fry, and headed down the great sandy stretches of the beach (eBird checklist here).

Muizenberg Beach facing east while in the dunes, south of Cape Town, South Africa

As I ventured out, it soon became apparent that this was going to be a terrible place for shorebirds. I wandered amongst the dunes, but mostly focused on the offshore birds hoping for a petrel or a shearwater. Out beyond the breakers, Cape Gannets foraged and avoided the masses of Kelp (Cape) Gulls swarming out over the water and the beach. As I wandered, I was soon distracted by movement in the grasses and scored a life bird - White-fronted Plover (Charadrius marginatus)!

White-fronted Plover (Charadrius marginatus), Muizenberg, South Africa

I kept myself entertained while these miniature sand-colored plovers darted between the dune grasses, and even spotted a tiny mini-plover that was probably only a few days old. To not disturb these cool birds, I headed closer to the coast, and to my astonishment, spotted a Shearwater, though not exactly how I imagined I would.

Subantarctic Little Shearwater (Puffinis [assimilis] elegans), Muizenberg, South Africa

As shown above, I found a Subantarctic Little Shearwater dead on the beach. I was surprised by the sight of such a bird, one that I imagine should be far off shore, so far into Vaalsbaai. I have no idea how he ended up where he did, but it was an interesting sight to see regardless! I photographed the bird for documentary purposes and then continued on my slow march down the beach, watching the White-necked Ravens scavenge in the kelp and occasionally kicking up a "fun bird" like a Plain-backed Pipit or Red-headed Cisticola.

At the end of my walks, I met up with Christopher again, and we decided to mess around with some shots. Unfortunately, the hour was late and they did not come out very well, so we agreed to head out again and I would do my best ESPN impression as he cut the surf with his wind-powered apparatus. As the winds strengthened and the sky darkened, we got our gear together and headed back towards Stellenbosch, ready for the weekend that lay before us.

Penguins Revisited

2012-02-16T08:01:00.000-08:00

The past two weeks have been quite busy for me. I have been doing school mostly, and have hardly been out to enjoy the wilds of Africa. I did, however, head out on Sunday to Jan Marais Natuur Reservaat and to the lower reaches of Stellenboschberg. At Jan Marais, I found my 100th African bird - a Eurasian Hoopoe (Upupa epops africanus)! Other highlights included Cape Sparrow, a female Pin-tailed Whydah, multiple Karoo Scrub-Robins and a massive flock of staging migrants on Stellenboschberg. I estimated the following in the fynbos swarm:

Black (Yellow-billed) Kite - 2

Eurasian (Rock) Kestrel - 1 bird, trying to catch the swifts and swallows for a short while

Alpine Swift - 25

Common Swift - 2 - these were extremely close, and for the first time I was able to separate them from African Swifts - LIFE BIRD

African Swift - 4

Little Swift - 40

Horus Swift - 4

White-rumped Swift - 50

Swift sp. - 10

Rock Martin - 20

Barn Swallow - 600

White-throated Swallow - 2 - surprisingly few, considering how many were in the area when I first arrived

Pearl-breasted Swallow - 14

Greater Striped-Swallow - 170

Black Sawwing - 2 - LIFER - hanging out near the creek

This coming weekend, I will be heading out into the fray once again with the Berg-en Toer Klub of Stellenbosch University to the Groot Winterhoek Wilderness Area. In the meantime, as promised, some of my pictures from Boulder's Beach.

Two African (Jackass) Penguins snuggling on the beach together, Simon's Town, Western Cape, South Africa (I was about two feet away!)

African (Jackass) Penguins lounging on the boulders of Boulder's Beach, Simon's Town, Western Cape, South Africa

The Beauty of Buteos

2012-02-05T06:19:00.000-08:00

The number of Buteos varies depending on who you ask. I've recently been keeping my entire list in eBird, and there 29 species in the genus Buteo according to that listing regime. If you count all the subspecies and groups you are able to 'designate' a bird as in the program, however, the number climbs to 63, including the generic entries such as "Red-tailed Hawk" with no further specification. This level of variability exhibited within the genus can really make some species a nightmare for field birding. In fact, one species, the Variable Hawk (Buteo polyosoma) was once considered several different species before genetic testing showed that there were merely 20+ color morphs! In the state, thankfully, there are typical 'morphs' for each population, and when seen prove extremely easy to identify. An example of this would be a Swainson's Hawk: there is really no other bird like it in much of its range, and regular 'light-morph' birds that I usually see in the deserts of Colorado and Utah rarely make me take a second glance to confirm them. Things become slightly more complicated as variability is taken into account, however, and the dark-morph birds I had at Independence Rock in Wyoming made me glance at my book just to be sure. Luckily, Buteo is pretty well covered genus in North America, and many guides are available showing the telltale marks for birds of virtually any population and color morph.

The comfort of this safety net of field guides from every angle has slowly slipped away for me over the years. when I was in South America, there was a juvenile Buteo in the jungles near Baños, Ecuador, and we were in no way certain of what to make of it at the time. It wasn't until several months later after I was back in the states that I finally figured out it was a young White-rumped Hawk (Buteo leucorrhous) outside of the typically expected elevational range (full checklist here). Even then, I was reliant on guides that were not available to me in the field, and that I did not even know existed while I was scouring my Ecuador field guide in the damp jungle.

This feeling of helplessness of hawks quickly returned to me as I arrived in South Africa. So far, the most common bird for me has been the "Steppe" Common Buzzard (Buteo buteo vulpinus), considered by my field guide to be separate from the nominate Common Buzzard. Indeed, some insular subspecies of this hawk have recently been upgraded to full species status, and some of the more distinctive mainland forms may follow in the near future. My knowledge with these birds is limited at the present time, and I mostly know that if a see a variably brownish bird flying over campus of the open karoo near Stellenbosch, that opening my book will inevitably lead me to this hawk.

While on the slopes of Stellenboschberg, I encountered yet another Buteo which was completely foreign to me but, luckily, extremely distinctive: the Jackal Buzzard (Buteo rufofuscus). These birds have red-tails much like the hawks I'm familiar with at all, but are ink black under the wings and across their mantle, making them extremely distinctive.

Jackal Buzzard, south of Stellenbosch, South Africa. The red tail is barely visible between the wings. This is a bad photo due to overcast conditions.

Today, in an attempt to beef up my world hawk list, I ventured through an extensive Eucalyptus plantation near town (complete birdlist here). My goal bird was one of two Buteos: the South African endemic "Forest" Mountain Buzzard (Buteo oreophilus trizonatus) and the so called "Elgin" Buzzard. The "Elgin" Buzzard, more commonly called the "Mystery Buzzard," is an enigma. A pair of largely rufous hawks was found nesting near Table Mountain a few years back, and now these birds are common in plantations and farm areas in extreme southwest South Africa (and according to the website listed below, occur "around Jonkershoek near Stellenbosch)." As of yet, no one is really sure where they come from either, with hybrid origin being one possible explanation I have read. So, when I finally did scare up a pair of Buteos, I got extremely excited about what they could be, but through the minimal views and even after photographing them I am left shaking my head. Their wing pattern was similar to that of a "Steppe" Common Buzzard, ruling out "Forest" Mountain Buzzard, but the head was pale, which did not necessarily line up with the Common Buzzards I had seen previously. Similarly, "Elgin" Buzzards are usually pretty uniform and usually largely rufous, which, though uniform, this bird was not rufous. Classes start tomorrow, but as soon as I am able I intend on heading out and looking for them again. In the meantime, I have a lot of studying I'll have to do for classes, and a lot I will have to do before I can fully appreciate and understand this variable genus.

In the meantime, some homework for whoever reads this blog: what do you think this hawk is?

Feel free to comment and let me know what you think. In the field I thought they were "Elgin" Buzzards, but I still haven't been able to rule "Steppe" Common Buzzard out in my mind completely. Some useful information on:

Cape Mystery (Elgin) Buzzards: http://mysterybuzzard.blogspot.com/p/identifying-mystery-buzzard.html
"Steppe" Common Buzzard photos: http://www.google.co.za/search?q=steppe+buzzard&hl=en&prmd=imvns&tbm=isch&tbo=u&source=univ&sa=X&ei=GY4uT_C8JcPBhAfo0eTjCg&ved=0CD8QsAQ&biw=1280&bih=685
"Forest" Mountain Buzzard photos: http://www.google.co.za/search?um=1&hl=en&biw=1280&bih=685&tbm=isch&sa=1&q=forest+buzzard&oq=forest+buzzard&aq=f&aqi=g1&aql=&gs_sm=e&gs_upl=1801l1933l0l2792l2l2l0l0l0l0l200l200l2-1l1l0

Serendipity

2012-02-04T03:43:00.000-08:00

The past week has simply flown by for me. I got my general class schedule figured out, and, amazingly, managed to not take my camera with me the couple times I did go somewhere. I did get pictures, but my contact for those pictures is currently in Cape Town... Anyways, I'll get them up when I can.

On Tuesday, I scheduled my classes at the international office and, upon walking outside, was greeted by Genevieve, Yvonne, and Stephanie. They all had one thing on their minds: penguins. Jackass (African) Penguins to be exact, a penguin known for its distinctive donkey-like braying. So, before I knew it, I was on the long train ride out to the southernmost place I have ever been in my entire life: Boulder's Beach. Upon arriving, we instantly had a penguin from the parking lot! We paid the R35 to wander down to the beach with them, and for the next few hours, I watched the penguins while the girls swam in the cold, clear waters of South Africa (I was caught by surprise so much I didn't even have a swimsuit!). I wandered through the boulders and crawled along the Jackass Penguin highways through the cool, white sand and watched Speckled Mousebirds hide in the adjacent fynbos and even spied a Cape Gannet diving not far off shore.

Before long, however, it was time for us to head back, and we re-boarded the train for Cape Town (and I snagged one last lifer for the day - a Black-headed Heron near Fish Hoek). When we arrived at the station, we were greeted with some rather unexpected news: the last train to Stellenbosch had left an hour before. We were forced to find different mean of transport for the night, and, after some haggling, got a taxi for R400 to take us back to Stellenbosch. I sat up front with the cab driver while the girls crammed in the back, and we started talking a little. I found out that our driver was from Transkei, and when I greeted him in isiXhosa, he was very impressed and began talking to us all about South Africa. He showed us where his house was in Khayelitsha township from the N2 highway and told us all about his life in Cape Town, while we asked him for advice regarding our new home. He told us about places to go and not to go, how to deal with people, and even offered sound advice on some of the school activities we have been thinking of enrolling in. The drive to Stellenbosch was relatively slow as our driver believed in obeying the speed limit (we were all extremely thankful for this), but the time still flew by as we talked while passing through the rolling vineyards. Soon, we were back in Stellenbosch, and as I handed him my last R100 bill, he said "Thank you, you have put some food on my table!" and sped off towards Cape Town for the rest of his shift. We all tried to absorb everything he had said to us on our drive home, and in the end every single one of us was thankful to have missed the train back to Stellenbosch.

The rest of my week followed with a similarly lucky tone, but more of a bird oriented one. I had planned on climbing Stellenboschberg to try to find, among other things, a Cape Batis, but was dissuaded by the high winds throughout the week. Instead, I hid in the shadows of Jan Marais Natuure Reservaat where, lo and behold, a pair of Cape Batis came within two meters of me drinking from a leaking hose! This occurred again when my plans to bird a wetland were foiled and, at Jan Marais, a lone and seemingly out of place Purple Heron coasted over the Karoo scrub as Malachite Sunbirds and Cape Bulbuls called from the surrounding bushes.

School starts the day after tomorrow, so I'm thinking I will go hiking again, but maybe to the lower reaches of Stellenboschberg to see what else I can add to my Cape Winelands list. I'm excited to start school, as I feel like I have just enjoyed the end of a summer's vacation rather than the halfway point of my LSU year! So, until I get more pictures and more stories, take care, and good birding.

Camp's Bay

2012-01-29T09:35:00.000-08:00

As part of our international orientation here at Universiteit van Stellenbosch, we went on a tour of Cape Town today to see the sights and learn a little about the area. So, we piled into a tiny little bus with our guides Wendell and Ronald and were off! I birded the whole way to town, of course, adding a couple life birds along the way - African Darter (the Afrotropical Anhinga) and Black Stork. Soon after, however, we descended into False Bay and the white sand dunes of the Cape Flats. For those unfamiliar with the harsh rule of the National Party under apartheid, the Cape Flats were designated as a resettlement area for many ethnic races during the 1970's and 1980's. Because of this, large shanty towns known as "informal communities" now exist in the hot, sandy, and largely inhospitable expanse. We drove through two such communities on our way towards Table Mountain (or "Tafleberg"), and looked out on the segregated communities. The first community we drove through was designated for the Xhosa, and holds close to 1.5 million people to this day. Even with each household owning just a small shack, the community stretched on kilometer after kilometer. I felt ashamed to be in a bus going through such an area, but I understand why it is necessary to take us through such areas: the atrocities of the past are still fresh for many South Africans, and will will continue to take decades to repair the damage that was done by the National Party. Part of the problem today, we learned, was that some families in the communities even expect the reparations and free housing from the government and do nothing to better their situation so that they may take care of the free aid offered by the government. It is because of this that some shacks had satellite dishes sticking out of the rusty metal attached to the windblown driftwood, and pirated electrical lines sprawled out throughout the communities.

The informal communities of the flats, however, come to an abrupt end on the south side of Cape Town, and the city seen on postcards begin. The stark contrast is almost unbelievable. Cape Town is possible the most beautiful large city I have ever visited, and when we reached the suburb of Camp's Bay, it seemed as though the poverty and the pain we had witnessed hours before was from a different planet altogether.

Camp's Bay, Cape Town, South Africa. The water was approximate 50 degrees F, a stark contrast to the 90 degree F full sun.

At Camp's Bay, I split off from my friend's (it was Mpho and Yesake's first time ever seeing an ocean!), and ventured into the boulder-strewn beach nearby. There, I did what I explained to my German friends as "bird-stalking," and was afforded fantastic views of some rocky shore birds.

African Oystercatcher, Kelp (Cape) Gull, Greater Crested and Sandwich Terns, Camp's Bay, South Africa

Hartlaub's Gull, Camp's Bay, South Africa

After photographing the birds I could get close to and frustratingly failing to get any definitive looks at anything other than Great (White-breasted) and Cape Cormorants in the seething black masses packed onto the rocks, I packed my bag, took off my shirt and ventured into the cold blue yonder. It was there under the unrelenting southern sun where the Antarctic waters numbed my feet that I came to terms with the fact that this land of extremes was going to be home for a semester. It was not a conscious realization until I had left, but as the smile crept across my face and my friends ran from the surf towards me just ahead of a wave of icy water, I knew that the next five months were going to be some of the best of my life.

Well, that's all for now. I have to schedule classes this week, but I'll be sneaking out when I can to get more of this fantastic land. Until then, take care!

The Unforgiving Sun

2012-01-27T07:28:00.000-08:00

Today marks the end of my first week. It is hard for me to believe it has been just a week, as a lifetime worth of memories and sensations have overloaded my cerebral cortex. A little over a week ago today I entered Namibian airspace and thereby had my first experience with Africa. Everything I had been told about Africa in the states weighed heavily on my mind, and no doubt the common thoughts that people generally have about Africa crossed my mind too. My mind was completely blown as I descended into Johannesburg, however, in the middle of the ocean of green and endless farms that reminded me a little of Kansas. The skyscrapers of the hub of South Africa loomed in the distance as I changed planes and I watched my first African birds survey the airstrips for food: an Amur Falcon soared high above, and Red Bishops sang from the airstrip's Phragmites patches.

Not that much longer, and I was in Stellenbosch, where I have remained for the past week. The experiences have been piling up as I have immersed myself into the African karoo and fynbos. I met some other foreign exchange students (not birders, but similar in personality to myself) and we have been exploring the area fervently, and have had quite the week! Below are some of the highlights I managed to photograph.

The first thing, of course, that struck me about Stellenbosch was the view. This is taken from right in front of the building I live in and shows the Jonkershoek.

On one of my first days here, I explored the in-town Jan Marais Nature Reserve. I was extremely surprised to find this massive tortoise drinking at the local pond! Other highlights from that reserve so far include Small Grey Mongoose, Cape Sugarbird, Black Sparrowhawk and the whistling Cape Bulbuls feeding in the scrub. It is quite the interesting locality!

One of my new favorite birds, the Cape Rockjumper. This legendary South African highlight is found in boulder-strewn hillsides in southwest South Africa. This bird was on the lower summit of Stellenboschberg, and my friends and I hiked 8 hours to see this and the view from the mountain, below.

The one thing that does not appear in the picture above is the unforgiving sun - I am blistered and burned from my Icarus-like hike, and am still recovering. Next time, I am bathing in sunscreen before I go!

So far, South Africa is an incredible and beautiful place! The people are as varied as the scenery, with Afrikaans, isiXhosa, German, French and English being commonly spoken on the streets. I'll try to post as often as I can, but for now, I need to get registered for classes. Have a good weekend!

The Year So Far

2012-01-17T13:42:00.000-08:00

Normally when a long time lapses and I do not post anything to this blog, it is because I am busy doing something. In the past, it has been due to lack of internet, colossal amounts of school work and my drive to be outside instead of be in front of a computer monitor. This year, so far, has been different. Since my last post, I have done relatively little. I said goodbye to Emily for the semester, I've tried to get my belongings together, and I fell ill. Then my dad got sick, and got pneumonia, and now that I am feeling better I realize that I am out of time. Tomorrow, I shall leave for South Africa for five months. Here goes nothing... I'll be trying my best to blog while I'm over there, but rest assured that this time my silences will be from doing something, and not from staying at home. (My dad is doing a lot better by the way; he's started pestering me for things more so I can tell he's feeling better!)

My next post will be from a warmer land than this. Take care, and see you soon!

End of Week One

2012-01-09T10:36:00.000-08:00

My year started in one of the best ways I could imagine: watching a fire dwindle in the darkness with Emily as the fireworks began to explode in the distance. Having had my wisdom teeth removed less than two days before, however, my year become quite bland after she left. I ended up sleeping for almost two days as I tried to recover from my teeth, and eventually started walking around to Connected Lakes around noon of the days I was home to exercise and just get out of the house. My year list slowly started to climb, as I saw White-breasted Nuthatch caching seeds in the Fremont Cottonwoods and a pair of Brown Creepers calling back and forth as they alighted on the bare limbs that stretched into the sky. I slowly and methodically plodded along, each day recovering a little more from having four of my teeth pulled out. Finally, on Saturday, I was actually able to go on a trip. Emily and I took off for the south fairly early, with the intent of visiting friends (that are practically family) and seeing some great scenery along the way. We first took our time meandering through Delta, and were rewarded by the massive Sandhill Crane flock currently wintering near Escalante SWA.

The cranes were quite close at one point along H Road, and Emily got to see for the first time how big these birds really are!

The fields were filled with Cranes that morning.

After gawking at the cranes, we checked the local lakes and rivers, getting Snow Geese at Confluence Park and Shoveler, Wigeon, Mallard, and all the usual duck suspects for the year list. We continued south to spend some time with some friends in Montrose, and then drove across Blue Mesa Dam and looped up towards Paonia getting excellent views of the Black Canyon of the Gunnison cloaked with snow. We even saw a surprise flock of Black Rosy-Finches feeding on the shoulder of the road with a single Brown-capped mixed in! It was an excellent view of these birds, and we were quite luck to 'happen' across them. We then proceeded to my friend Jason Beason's house in Paonia and, in addition to his seeing his son cross-country ski across his yard, saw a Harris's Sparrow in his front yard! We were soon on the road again, however, and spent the rest of the afternoon in and around Hotchkiss with Andrea Robinsong. Overall, it was a great day for a drive and for visiting some great friends that I don't see often enough. As an added bonus, I even got my year list above 60 species.

I'm now ready for my last week and a half in Colorado, and am hoping that it is as great as or possibly even better than the first one.

From Phoebes to Finches

2011-12-26T09:28:00.000-08:00

The past week of roaming and birding the expanses of western Colorado has been quite interesting. Kevin Louth was still present for the first part of the week, and though I have been trying to force myself to get down to the work I need to do this break, I have still found myself sneaking out of the house to bird.

The day after Kevin and I returned from Utah we hit the water for the Grand Junction Christmas Bird Count. I have been in charge of the Colorado River section for several years now, and was looking forward to some dreary December rafting down the river. However, I was surprised by how nice - dare I say, warm - the weather really was! Eight of us crammed on to Johnathan Cooley's raft and had an excellent float down the river. We had a bird that appeared to be a Snow Goose-Canada Goose hybrid, but given all of our inexperience with this combo, it could easily prove to be part domestic or even an aberrant "Blue" Snow Goose (check out a photo by Jackson Trappett here). The other good bird of the count was one that threw me for quite the loop at first. I heard the echo of a 'pip pip' call, and became very turned around. It was extremely familiar, but seemed completely out of context, like I bird I heard before but a very long time before. I started looking around, and asked if anyone knew what that call was. Everyone cued in after I pointed it out, but none were certain of the call. I turned and saw something move on the bank, and was locked on a BLACK PHOEBE just a few seconds later. This is the second new species for the Grand Junction CBC I have found in my short river rafting career, and was very excited to see this little bird sticking out the winter so far north. I thought I saw two birds at one point, but no one got on more than one at once so we let it go. Leon Thurmon, however, spotted a second bird less than a mile downriver! It was very exciting to have multiple individuals of a new CBC bird. Overall, it was a great success, and we all had a great day on the river. In total, we had 45 species (eBird checklist here).

After doing some hikes and further exploring in the western half of Colorado, Kevin left, and I began to get on my paperwork, the scholarships and other work that I still need to complete. I did however, take one final birding trip for the year on Christmas Eve. Jackson Trappett, whose photographs can be viewed here, needed three more life birds to reach 175 new photo birds for the year, so we set out to get those birds. Our morning was not nearly as productive, with us dipping on Long-tailed Duck and finding a surprise rockslide blocking the road on our way out, but once we got to Pitkin County, things started looking up. We met Dick Filby at the top of the Village Express Chairlift at Snowmass ski resort to watch the feeders for Rosy-Finches. Mountain Chickadees swarmed the feeder for seeds and were constantly bickering in the nearby bushes, and a pair of Gray Jays watched the skiers from afar to see what it was they were up to. Eventually, a group of three Brown-capped Rosy-Finches flew in, but as we watched, no others came to join, and eventually they flew. A Lone Pine Grosbeak passed overhead as we waiting and watched for more birds. We were thankful to have at least seen some rosies, but as we debated about whether to stay and began considering leaving, a large flock flew into the Subalpine Fir behind the feeder. Success at least! There were about 80 birds that came in, with about 40 Brown-capped, 30 Gray-crowned, and 10 "Hepburn's" (coastal) Gray-crowned Rosy-Finches. We were ecstatic as the birds came in and feed just feet away from us. (This was about the moment I realized I had forgotten my camera ~140 miles away at home). We sat and watched the finches until they left, and then headed out with Dick to the other feeders across the valley at Elk Park. The Elk Park feeders were a lot less productive, but a short walk behind the feeders had two flyover Red Crossbills and a nice surprise group of three Golden-crowned Kinglets that came within a few feet of us! The Kinglets were photo bird 175 for Jackson, and as we congratulated him we began to work our way down the mountain. On our drive out, we even managed number 176 for Jackson: a Rough-legged Hawk in Garfield County circling over the road.

Overall, it was a great week, and I had a great Christmas the next day both with my family and with Emily's. It has been a great December, and I look forward to seeing what the new year has in store.

Happy holidays, and I'll see y'all in 2012.

The Road to Zion

2011-12-23T09:46:00.000-08:00

As I sat down at my kitchen table playing with my food, I glanced up at my friend Kevin Louth. He had followed me home (invited, of course) as he had never experienced the western United States before. He was in awe of the snow and fog that enshrouded the mountains surrounding my western Colorado home, and, still recovering from finals, we discussed activities we could participate in while staying in Colorado. His first question disregarded Colorado entirely. "Where's Zion? Can we go there?" I paused from my dithering to glance in his direction, and slowly nodded. Early the next morning, I was on an unplanned road trip through the heart of Utah.

The next three days included 21 hours of driving over a thousand miles of sandstone desert. Kevin was in awe at the territory so foreign to someone born and raised in the bayou, and I got to see my favorite desert haunts under a cloak of snow. Our low point was definitely the 17 degree F night we camped at Natural Bridges National Monument, and there were more highlights than could be counted. We hit Arches NP, Natural Bridges NM, Lake Powell NRA, Capitol Reef NP, Escalante-Grand Staircase NM, Bryce Canyon NP, and hiked the ice covered Angel's Landing in Zion NP. Below are some picture highlights from the trip. It was exhausting, but exhilarating!

Double-O Arch, Arches National Park, Moab, Utah

Sipapu Bridge, Natural Bridges National Monument, Utah

Zion Canyon from Angel's Landing, Zion National Park, Utah

Last, but not least, the bird of the trip: CALIFORNIA CONDOR on Angel's Landing, Zion National Park. We saw two birds - numbers 99 and 0.

The Benefits of Studying

2011-12-04T14:23:00.001-08:00

While panicking and putting all my stuff together yesterday and waiting for Emily to come up from New Orleans, I noticed an Eastern Phoebe outside my window. I stared at it momentarily, and realized that if this bird were in the oak outside my window, then a flock would probably not be far behind. Lo and behold, my studying was quickly interrupted by Pine Warblers, Blue-headed Vireo, Downy Woodpeckers and a returnee (at least second-year) wintering Yellow-throated Warbler! The pictures below are from my humble dorm room window.

Yellow-throated Warbler (Setophaga dominica), LSU Campus, Baton Rouge, Louisiana.

Brown Creeper (Certhia americana), LSU Campus, Baton Rouge, Louisiana.

Today, as another brief respite from studying, I went out with Kevin Morgan and Carol Foil to check out some hummingbirds not far from LSU. We had a three hummer species day, with Ruby-throated, Black-chinned, and Rufous all putting in appearances. I was good to see hummers at least one more time before venturing to a land that has none. Back to studying for now!

A Momentary Flashback: 17 June 2011

2011-11-23T12:00:00.000-08:00

As Thanksgiving approaches, everyone remembers all of those things they are thankful for. It is at this time of year that I often think back on the summers before, and the little things I have been thankful for, and one day which stands out as being one filled with such things is 17 June 2011.

Over the course of the past year and a half, I have begun using eBird (http://ebird.org/content/ebird/) with regularity. The easy ability to enter and share your observations with the community at large has great ramifications for both the scientific community and the general birding community and allows you to look through your observations in order of date. Scanning through the pages of checklists I have accumulated has become a lot like flipping through a diary for me, as each individual bird observation sparks the memories of the places I've been (I have linked each section to a relevant checklist as well, in case you truly want to step into my shoes for a moment). To help fill in the gaps from when I was not blogging and to commemorate this holiday, I have chosen this date to describe some of the things I was thankful for and seeing.

The first thing that I was thankful for and realized to be beneficial was the fact that I had indulged myself with too many (non-alcoholic) things to drink from the night before. As I sleepily stumbled out of my truck bed (read: mobile home), I heard a distinctive and far off sound. Whipping around, checking for coyotes and whatever kind of other mammals might have the "pleasure" of encountering a tender and defenseless human in a half-dazed state alone in the forest at night, I became as still as I was paranoid. Slowly, a slight smile of recognition creeped across my face. Somewhere in the distance, a Flammulated Owl called softly. I checked the mixed Juniper-Ponderosa Pine stand that I camped in for any movement, being no stranger to the whisper call of these elusive owls, but the call of my warm sleeping bag was what I quickly cued in on as it lured me away from the nearby owl. (Checklist: http://ebird.org/ebird/view/checklist?subID=S8426774)

Home sweet home (not at the above location, but to give you an idea of my living conditions). Photo taken at Sunset in the White Mountains of Arizona, May 2011.

My day started a little before dawn, as I struggled to put my cold clothes on and prepare my material for the coming transect. A couple drinks of cold water helped me wake slightly as I glanced around at the impending survey. I listened to my morning work playlist of music to get myself motivated to go for the day, singing along to things such as "8105" by Moving Mountains. I quickly hopped out of my truck, and began fumbling through the woods, following the small dark arrow on my GPS. The mix of Ponderosa Pine and Juniper led to a lot of interesting birds coexisting side by side, with Grace's and Black-throated Gray Warblers singing in the same patches of trees. I remembered back to when, almost a year prior, Michael Hilferty and I had spent the night in almost the exact same place, tripping over barbed wire fences in the middle of the night trying to catch a glimpse of a Common Poorwill, and of the many of the same birds being seen the next morning then as well. I was, however, temporarily thrown out of my nostalgia by things such as Red Crossbills flying overhead, duos of Hairy Woodpeckers contesting over rotting snags, and a "surprise" herd of cows that started stampeding in the opposite direction that I started running. I greatly enjoyed my morning, and managed to complete my entire transect. Feeling extremely accomplished, I headed back to my truck, where my last Jarritos soda lay in waiting. I always buy enough soda to keep track of how long it will be until I get to visit civilization again, and this was the last soda in my truck. It was the day I had longed for for longer than I care to (or will) admit: SHOWER DAY. (Checklist: http://ebird.org/ebird/view/checklist?subID=S8429166)

Grace's Warbler (Setophaga graciae) near Williams, Arizona. June 2009.

I jumped in my truck and started down the long road to those things which I had longed for: a bed, running water, soap... The excitement made it hard for me to focus on the road. I imagined myself eating indoors, buying food and actually seeing people again as I chugged my Mexican soda and my feet danced around the pedals. My stick shift glided through the gears as I hit my first paved road in over a day, and I adjusted my greasy hat to accommodate the presence of traffic. I flew over 100+ miles of asphalt, passing a dark-morph Red-tail and some of the most beautiful desert in the world to get to Saint George, Utah. By this time, I had practically convinced myself that the hotel was going to be on par with Shangri La (the In-N-Out I stopped at had already claimed the equivalency of Nirvana), and there was little that enticed me more than the thought of entering a state of relaxation that was just short of a coma. When I finally arrived, I strode through the automatic doors, and, resembling "Pig Pen" from the Peanuts, I leaned over the counter, beaming at the dark-haired college girl working the desk and triumphantly declaring that I was ready to take possession of my room.

"The rooms don't open until 3."

My world collapsed around me momentarily as I swallowed my disappointment, and I was able to quickly regain my composure.

"3? Seriously? Is there any way I can get it now?" The sweat eroded the dirt off of my brow as I stood waiting for her reply.

"I'm sorry, but check in is at 3."

I gazed into space before demanding "Where is the nearest creek?"

I clearly caught her off guard, as she slowly replied that she had no idea where a creek was, and I racked my memory for knowledge regarding Washington County birding locations. Slowly a name came from the recesses of my mind. Tonaquint... Tonaquint park. I jumped on the hotel computer and found that there really was a Tonaquint Park, and it was less than a mile away. I quickly thanked the girl for her help and bolted out the door. Minutes later, I was staring at Abert's Towhees foraging in the grass and brush of the quaint Tonaquint Nature Center. I remained there for just over an hour, adding several birds to my Utah state list, and generally enjoying the desert atmosphere and the weird looks people gave to the apparently homeless man with an 800 dollar camera.

Abert's Towhee (Melezone aberti) at Tonaquint Nature Center, Washington County, Utah. 17 June 2011.

As I got closer to my car after completing my birding loop, I realized that I was actually lucky that the hotel refused my entry, as I got to not only see Abert's Towhee in Utah, but spend time with this unique sparrow that I had not seen in years. I got in the car and checked the time, smiling at the fact that I was within fifteen minutes of three o'clock. (Checklist: http://ebird.org/ebird/view/checklist?subID=S8426791)

That night, as I watched crappy TV in a clean bed with my hair wet from the shower I had anticipated for so long, I realized that I had never fully appreciated the amenities of a "low-grade" hotel room before. I was extremely thankful to be able to be in Utah and exposed to all birds and multiple, clear radio stations, and as I slept on a non-dusty pillow that night, realized just how lucky I was to be having such a great summer.

The Endless March of Time

2011-11-18T11:07:00.001-08:00

The Chimney Swifts streaming by to the south have gradually had their airspace invaded and have now been replaced by the lazy arcs of the Tree Swallows enjoying their winter hideout. My daily trudges to class have witness a similar transformation, as the chips and tsips of American Redstarts, Yellow Warblers and Yellow-throated Warblers have given way to the type-writing calls of the Ruby-crowned Kinglets and smacking calls of the Orange-crowed Warblers wintering in the fern-laden boughs of the Live Oaks. Talking to my girlfriend, Emily, in New Orleans has helped me get through the weekends of overwhelming homework and my brief birding forays with Kevin Morgan and other Louisiana birders have kept me sane, and my first semester of my junior year of school is drawing to a close. No matter who I see though, all have asked me the same question. Emily asks it a way that alludes to the excitement that must await, my dad with the panic that much is yet to be done and most others with a sense of foreboding for the unknown that awaits me. "Are you ready for your next semester?"

Usually such a question would not make me think twice. I would shrug off such a query with an off the cuff remark about the continuous march of time, thinking of the constant flow of birds being the timepiece of my mind. Since my disturbingly late last blog post, I have been keeping myself busy with the natural world and a disturbingly large class load. I passed my spring classes with straight A's, despite a week of "studying" with my friends from Tropical Birding and Houston Audubon in High Island the week before my April organic chemistry test, and I took up an intensive work schedule in the southwestern United States once again. I finished my classes, flew home for Emily's graduation, and took off to beat the storms through the mountain passes to go to work. I was plunged headlong into a sea of gypsum in southern New Mexico, and spent the rest of my summer doing general bird surveys in Arizona, New Mexico, and Colorado, interspersing my long summer with periodic trips home to visit my family.

As I sat at home for part of my summer eating lunch, contemplating on everything I had (and had not) done that summer, my existentialism was interrupted by my sister on her way to work.

"It's weird," she said half in my direction, "You haven't done anything this summer."
I was partially offended, and replied, "I'm here, aren't I?"
"Well, yeah, but that's kind of boring. Don't you want to go somewhere?"

She was right, I did. I really did. So, I submitted paperwork at my university to make that a reality and put it out of my head. However, I am a more qualified person for many things than I give myself credit for, and was surprised to be asked if I was ready for my next semester, even if that semester were not in America. It was then, while listening to music in my dorm and looking at my email, that I realized my next semester would not be highlighted by the return of Purple Martins over the local lakes or the leafing of the cypress trees in the flooded bayous, but instead by penguins fleeing the Great White Sharks of the southern ocean and the bizarre and foreign plants of the fynbos and karoo. In just over two months, I will be stepping off a plane in South Africa to spend six months of my life near the legendary Cape of Good Hope.

One of the first things I realized when I heard this was that I would have a lot to do to get ready for the coming months, and one of those things involved this blog. It has been neglected for so long, and so many stories and things that have occurred have escaped the fate of being chronicled here on my webpage. It is for this reason that I wish to make a concerted effort to revamp this blog and update it throughout my foreign travels (and if I forget, please remind me!). In conjunction with this, I will be attempting to upload as many photos as possible on my new Flickr account as well (http://www.flickr.com/photos/blackhawkbirder/). My best pictures from over the years are on there now, and I hope to update it more in the coming months with not just Colorado information, but also with Sugarbirds and Eremomelas from the Western Cape.

I am off to triumphantly finish my semester now, but will be back soon. Until then, take care, and I hope you all are looking forward to whatever the future may bring as much as I am.

Of Organic Chemistry and popping lungs

2011-01-05T07:30:00.000-08:00

A few months ago, I put my last blog post up. I said to myself, "This year, I will blog continuously and without break! I shall be master of the internet!" Then, life intervened. After surviving my left lung collapsing three times last year, my right lung was jealous of all the attention my left side was receiving. It sat there, scheming and plotting, and finally was so enraged that it popped, quite literally, to get the attention it deserved. However, I was now acclimated to the pain associated with collapsed lungs, thanks to my left side, so I sighed and, after a good night's sleep, headed to the hospital. As I was recovering from my lung, the classes started to pile up, specifically those known as Organic Chemistry and Microbiology. Incredibly, I managed to get A's in all but one of my classes, but the damage to my blog had already been done: it had been neglected. And unfortunately, I abandoned it during the best year of birding I have ever had. I saw over 900 species of bird last year, but did not blog about them very much at all. My limited internet over the summer and desire to pass my classes meant that this blog fell by the wayside. But that is my New Year's resolution (or at least one of them) for this year: to update this blog more often. However, more OCHEM is looming, so it may not be extremely often, but I will try to get it done.

I hope you all have a great new year!

Lago Calima

2010-09-06T00:15:00.000-07:00

For the budget traveler, there is really only one way to get around in South America: public transportation. Luckily, the public transport systems are well set up, and it is near impossible to not get a cab while in even the most modest sized towns. However, for the long hauls across mountain ranges and between towns, the best option by far is to go by bus. I had heard the legends of the Latin American bus rides, but suddenly I was faced by my first one. We were traveling from Bogota to Cali, which, looking at a map, didn't seem all that far to me. In fact, I would've been surprised if it was more than five hours.

It turns out I was five hours short on my estimate.

An entire day was swallowed up by the unending mountain ridges and expansive river valleys of central Colombia. Some of the most incredible canyons I have ever seen carved through razorback ridges on their ways to Colombia's major rivers. The tropical lowlands amazed me, and I saw such cool birds as Striated Heron and Squirrel Cuckoo from the buses windows. This bus turned out to be the nicest of the whole trip - large windows, sleeper seats, and the occasional bad fighting movie. However, by days' end we were finally into Cali, and after a short night's sleep were off on our next bus, this one to the north of Cali, to a small town called Darien. This bus, thankfully, was much shorter and proved to contain a few more life birds for me, such as Saffron Finch and Cocoi Heron. We then arrived at Darien with time for a short walk along the lake to see what was out and about and specifically to look for a new taxon of hummingbird that was recently described. As we walked out, the life birds stacked up and overwhelmed me. Flame-rumped Tanagers flew through the trees, a Crested Bobwhite called nearby and Grassland Yellow-Finches were flushed left and right. We soon found a nice copse of trees, and began our vigil for the hummingbird. The trees were abuzz with Western Emeralds and Rufous-tailed Hummingbirds and we soon spotted our target bird briefly: the Black-capped Woodnymph. A paper recently published describes this distinctive hummer only found around Lago Calima, essentially identical to a Green-crowned with a black cap. What exactly will happen to it taxonomically is yet to be determined.

Darien, Valle de Cauca, Colombia: The view from our hotel room.

The next morning we went to check out some other woods, and I saw my first ever woodcreeper (a Montane) and my first ever antbird (Bar-crested Antshrike). Everywhere I turned, I was overwhelmed with the awesomeness that is neotropical birding. Blue-black Grassquit, Spectacled Parrotlet, and Crimson-backed Tanager all put in excellent appearances. A few of our familiar North American birds also showed themselves, including the resident Colombian subspecies of Acorn Woodpecker and the interesting South American subspecies of Black Phoebe. However, at this point during my travels, I began to feel sick, and slowly wandered down to the hotel. That afternoon, as I relaxed and hoped for the best health wise, we took a bus back to Cali and began plotting our next ornithological move in Colombia.

El Parque La Florida

2010-09-02T00:00:00.000-07:00

As I type this, I am recovering from a long and arduous weekend. What was meant to be a college kid run for delicious burritos just off campus ended eight hours later after our car was in a wreck and we had to deal with everything associated therein. Luckily, all of the members of both cars were fine, and I am nothing but a little sore. Of course, the anxiety and stress that always accompanies these events is getting to me now, but when I close my eyes I can think back to my my first day in South America, and think back to another time in which I was in shock and disbelief, but for much better reasons.

It all started when Andrew and I headed to one of the nearby squares for breakfast. I quickly saw my first South American species of bird: the Rufous-collared Sparrow. This ubiquitous bird was utterly fascinating to me, the lone member of its genus found south of the Mexico. Even though they were by many standards 'trash birds,' I never tired of watching these cool little sparrows hopping about the streets and yards.

Rufous-collared Sparrow (Zonotrichia capensis), El Parque La Florida, Bogota, Colombia

As we continued onward towards our destination, every bird that crossed our path was a life bird! A flock of Brown-bellied Swallows cruising overhead, a Great Thrush darting through the trees, and a dumpy Eared Dove sitting on the wire. Andrew and I soon decided to head out to one of the city parks to bird for a bit: El Parque La Florida.

After an extremely long taxi ride across the city, we finally arrived at the wastewater reclamation area and city park known as La Florida. This place seemed amazingly mediocre to me, just like a North American city park to me at first, but the birdlife did not disappoint. American Coots and Spot-flanked Gallinules cruised the lake, while Common Moorhens, Eared Doves, and Rufous-collared Sparrows made themselves known. As we walked along the marsh grasses unsuccessfully trying to find a close Apolinar's Wren I spotted my first ever neotropical tanager - a Rufous-browed Conebill, a near endemic bird to Colombia! Even Andrew got a life bird (spotted by yours truly) that day - a Subtropical Doradito skulking in the bullrush. However, my most wanted bird of the day did not appear until the very end: the rare, endangered, and localized Bogota Rail. As we walked out of the park (having only heard the rail), we found one last patch of rush to try for the rail. Yellow-hooded Blackbird and Spot-flanked Gallinule quickly vacated the area, and not long after out came a Bogota Rail!

Bogota Rail (Rallus semiplumbeus), El Parque La Florida, Bogota, Colombia.

Overall, it was an amazing introduction to the neotropics, and an excellent start at that! In fact, I never saw another rail on the entire trip. Now, armed with my very first neotropical bird experiences, I began to gear up for the rest of my Colombian adventure, and wondered just what lay ahead of me.

A Night to Remember

2010-08-30T00:00:00.000-07:00

The first thing I noticed was the cold. After being in Orlando, it was almost stark. The crisp, cool mountain air flooded my senses as I stepped out of the door. Slowly, my eyes began to adjust to the lights outside. The sounds of engines surrounded us, and somewhere nearby I could hear shouting in Spanish. As I glanced down before me, I slowly began to move with the crowd. Security personnel with machine guns watched us exiting the plane, and ushered us onto the soon to be overcrowded bus nearby. I hustled aboard, following those that I had confidence knew what was going on. The bus soon began to accelerate, weaving beneath other planes, showing us tempting glances of the city lights beyond. After a few bumps and quick curves, we were ushered back out of the van, and a long and mostly barren corridor lay before me, crowded with people waiting for the magic stamp. I slowly jostled and maneuvered my way through the crowd, until finally, after what seemed (and possibly was ) hours, walked up to a lady in a DAS uniform. After some language difficulties, I answered her questions as best I could, and my brand new passport received its first stamp ever: one for the Republica de Colombia. I could not believe it. The day I had been waiting for longer than I could remember had finally come. I was in South America, and Colombia no less. I slowly walked out, retrieving my backpack and waiting for my friend Andrew Spencer to rejoin me. We checked out through security, took out some Colombian pesos, and briskly paced into the bustling horde of people and taxis, and soon got an unmarked one for our hotel. My first ever taxi ride sped by (quite literally, as anyone who has driven in Latin America can attest to) under the lights of Bogota. We soon arrived at our little hotel on the other side of the city, and I quickly began to fall asleep. It was the night of 17 June 2010, and ahead of me lay almost two months of South American birding. I had no idea what to expect, armed only with the drawings of birds I had never seen, memories of specimens I had carefully studied and what I imagined those birds to look like in my head. And as I fell asleep that night, I glanced out at the lowly lit rooftops and wondered and pondered about what my first ever South American bird would be...

Over the next several posts, I will talk about this amazing trip I had, my first South American trip ever. Over the months I did things I did not think were possible for me to do, saw birds the likes of which I had never imagined, and made friends that I will have for the rest of my life. I will try to post up at least once a week to cover the entire trip, along with additional posts from what is going on now. Until then, good birding!

A Busy Busy Summer

2010-06-15T14:43:00.000-07:00

Northern Arizona is a wild and rugged place. One of the most remote localities in the lower 48 states, the Arizona strip is an awesome place to bird. Unfortunately, that means internet is few and far between as well. I will try to post up stuff as soon as I can, but that will also prove to be difficult, as I have no idea how prevalent internet is in South America either...

Hope you all have a great summer, and I will post by August at the latest. In the mean time, go out and have fun! Have a good summer.

An American Jungle

2010-05-07T08:58:00.000-07:00

The Sunday after we got back from Texas, Michael, his roommate Jesse, and I went out to the Atchafalaya basin. As the steamy summer weather sinks in, birds have started to become as thick as the foliage. Wood Thrush, Hooded Warbler, Kentucky Warbler, Red-eyed Vireo, and Yellow-eyed Vireo were just some of the highlights as we wandered back in the woods. The tall trees with the thick carpet of brush and ferns is the closest thing I have ever seen to the jungle. Birds crawled along the branches singing, and we walked through the shady depths of the woods. One of the highlights of this walk, at least for me, was a lifer I had been hoping for since I came to Louisiana, the elusive Swainson's Warbler. Luckily, we had about five birds singing and we actually got halfway decent looks at one:

Swainson's Warbler, Sherburne WMA, Louisiana

As I write this, I am now entering finals week here at LSU. Summer is almost upon us! Until then, take care and good birding!

A Plateau Named Edward

2010-05-02T19:22:00.000-07:00

It was go time. I briskly walked from my class to the small, cell-like living space I call home. I scrambled to get my gear together, knowing that Kevin was not far away. I choked down a cheeseburger and some fries, grabbed my binoculars, camera and other gear and headed out the door. Kevin Morgan was ready and waiting, and we quickly grabbed Michael Hilferty and started heading west to the Ashe-Juniper Oak wonderland known as the Edward's Plateau.

On our way out, we stopped at many notable Louisiana locations to check for breeding birds and migrants. We briefly walked around Sherburne around noon and were regaled by Painted Buntings and the unending racous songs of Yellow-breasted Chats. We then headed further west and came upon Cameron Parish. We quickly diverted off the road, careful not too spend too much time at any one location due to our tight schedule. A brief drive through Cameron Prairie yielded the best looks I have ever had of a Sora and numerous shorebirds. We then continued on towards Peveto Woods, where we quickly scrambled through the brush after migrants. Though activity was down, many species were still present. A (presumed) Yellow-bellied Flycatcher flitted by, a couple Rose-breasted Grosbeaks hid in the woods, showy orioles bounded through the trees, and many other birds skulked in the woods. Michael was on fire in the woods, being able to find his lifer Ovenbird in the chenier scrub and locating his (and Kevin's) lifer Olive-sided Flycatcher. We soon piled back into the car again though and continued the impossibly long haul to Austin, Texas.

The next morning, we met Rebekah Rylander just outside of Austin to see the two birds our entire trip revolved around: the Golden-cheeked Warbler and the Black-capped Vireo. Unfortunately, we had a few lock problems at first and had to walk in to get the combo and then retrace our steps to let the cars into the preserve. This unintentional walk became some of the best birding of the weekend though! As soon as we arrived at an open area, I spotted my first lifer of the trip: a singing Grasshopper Sparrow! We then began to walk around the house, and the lifers started to stack up. Kevin's first ever Clay-colored Sparrow rummaged through the low grass in Michael's lifer Lark Sparrow flock, and a Ladder-backed Woodpecker flew over us. As soon as Rebekah got the codes for the locks, I jogged back to the cars with her and began pulling in. A brief pause on the drive in granted me a surprise though: a Golden-cheeked Warbler! I watched the bird for a few seconds, and then continued on to meet the group. There were more further in, and it would be more fun to see these birds as a group.

We all piled into Rebekah's car and headed further into the woods. Spring migrants filled the junipers, with a flock of at least 50 Mississippi Kites streaming by, dozens of Chipping Sparrows flushing from the brush and a few Black-throated Green Warblers singing in the oaks. After searching unsuccessfully in the brush for Black-capped Vireos we decided to try a known Golden-cheeked spot that was disturbingly quiet. We all split up to cover more ground, and as I walked back by myself, I heard the distinctive buzzy song of our target bird. I quickly called Michael, and began to track the bird down. Little did I know that it was right on top of me! Amazingly, it came out in the open, and just by luck I snapped off a nice clear shot:

Golden-cheeked Warbler, Austin, Texas

Michael soon came crashing out of the brush from chasing Black-crested Titmice around, and I got him on the bird and ran back to grab Kevin. Unfortunately, when we returned it had moved off-trail and was a heard only bird for Kevin. By now it was about 11 o'clock and Rebekah needed to get going, so we began to drive out of the reserve. I had my window rolled down, and heard a slight buzzy note over the crunch of the car. "Black-capped Vireo!" We pulled over, and Rebekah asked me if I was sure, as this was not one of the staked out spots. In the brush a vireo gave a few chatter notes like a White-eyed, and then finally gave a distinctive Black-capped wheeze. We moved in slowly when suddenly, about fifty yards off, a male Black-capped Vireo hopped out in the open for a second! Victory was ours. We all managed to get equally quick looks at the bird and soon headed out of the park and southward towards Pedernales State Park.

At the state park, we continued to rack up western birds. (Woodhouse's) Western Scrub-Jay, Painted Buntings and other cool birds abounded, and we found three more Golden-cheeked Warblers (one of which Kevin got to see). It was after this that we began the long drive home, happy and tired from the amazing day of central Texas birding.

April

2010-04-27T10:57:00.000-07:00

Well, once again I let myself go for too long without doing a post. And, once again, the stuff to report has really piled up! In early April I went to New England for spring break and met up with Andrew Spencer and Ian Davies, and briefly with Brendan Fogarty and Luke Seitz. It was a great week packed with birds that had yet to go north for the winter, and some early migrants just trickling into the northeast. In all, I got twelve life birds over the break: Monk Parakeet, Common Eider, American Black Duck, Black Scoter, King Eider (my 600th world bird!), Harlequin Duck, Snowy Owl, American Woodcock, Spruce Grouse, Boreal Chickadee, Manx Shearwater, and Saltmarsh Sparrow. I will try to post some more about some specific encounters in the future, after my schedule opens up a little after finals.

Yesterday, however, I took a quick break from studying with my friend Michael Hilferty to check out the Mississippi River Levee at LSU. Amazingly, there were virtually no migrants in the woods, but we did get to see two Prothonotary Warblers in a territorial dispute. As we were leaving, though, Michael spotted two Western Kingbirds on a fence - a state bird for me and a lifer for him! As we continued down the levee, we found a group of Solitary Sandpipers and soon had another group of shorebirds fly in giving calls I had never heard before. At first I assumed that they were also Solitaries, but upon further inspection was amazed to see five Buff-breasted Sandpipers! This was a lifer for both of us, and a darn good bird to boot!

I will post more in the near future. As soon as finals let up I will have some more time. Until then, good birding!

I though it was spring?

2010-04-15T17:38:00.000-07:00

DATE: 28 March 2010

The morning and early afternoon had proved productive. The amoeba-like mass of birders to which I belonged had amorphously wandered through most of the woods and field of Grand Isle in Jefferson Parish, and had turned up many good birds. Northern Parulas were singing in people's yards, a surprise Swallow-tailed Kite arced above a wooded lot, and a flock of warblers sat above a termite nest, feasting on the emerging queens. The bright colors of the freshly molted warblers was nice; the buff breast of the Worm-eating Warbler, the flash of the Swamp Canary (Prothonotary Warbler) in the brush, the dapper Black-and-white and several Palm Warblers flitted in the oaks. However, our greatest surprise on the day was on the coast a little while later. We were all but finished for the day, having scoured almost every patch of barrier island dirt, when the lingering winter migrants began to show. The increasing numbers of shorebirds were overlooked as we gazed to see at the line of 60+ Northern Gannets cruising through the near-shore waters. As we all stood there exhausted, we prepared to leave when Kevin Morgan suggested that we check one more spot. I sighed tiredly, and we began to venture out towards the other end of Elmer's Island.

I believe we all had thoughts of just going home at this point. We had birded Grand Isle, and we had a great day. But then, we spied a last group of gulls, and certain words inappropriate for younger audiences dribbled from my lips: in the back of the group was a gigantic white gull. There was no mistaking it. It was a second-cycle Glaucous Gull! We excitedly began to get out of the car to document this amazing bird. The best bird of our spring migration day turned out to be a lingering winterer from the far north. This large gull reminded to always expect the unexpected.

2nd Cycle Glaucous Gull, Grand Isle, Louisiana

Colorado Trip Revisited

2010-03-22T08:48:00.000-07:00

Unfortunately, I have been busy with school (just finished midterms), but David Bell just put up a trip report from January in Colorado. I'll start posting here again soon; Yellow-throated Warblers and Parulas have started showing up in mass, along with a few Swallow-tailed Kites!

David's Blog: http://ssmbirding.blogspot.com/

Ruff

2010-02-24T15:09:00.000-08:00

I had never been so happy to hear blaring indie rock before. The whining synthesizer of my ringtone annoyingly announced the joyous news. I scrambled for my phone, and was horrified when the call was dropped. Kevin Morgan stared out into the flooded rice fields, waiting for the news. In the distance, we could see another birding car starting to speed away. Call back: answering machine. I quickly re-dialed: answering machine. I swore under my breath, and tried one more time. "Hello?" the crackly voice asked. "ERIK - what's up? You get it?" "Ya, I -t it, 'bout - mile west -of in--section..." Barely enough information had made it through, but it was enough. We hastily made our way back out to the highway and began coasting along the flooded rice fields. Long-billed Dowitchers covered the fields, interspersed with Greater Yellowlegs, Black-bellied Plovers, Killdeer and the occasional peep. It was here in this flooded back-country of Louisiana near Thornwell that Steve Cardiff, Donna Dittman, and Paul Conover found a winter male Ruff (Philomachus pugnax) the day before. We coasted by the previously reported location, and I glanced out at the small flooded field through the bitter wind. Erik was already there, with a scope pointed towards the rarest bird within a hundred miles. I walked over to the scope and slowly eased my eyes to the eyepiece, and there it was.

Ruff, Thornwell, Louisiana

Ruffs are normally Eurasian birds, but every year a few of them stray into the United States. This bird has been recorded in almost every state now, but remains sporadic and unpredictable most of the time. I consider myself lucky to have been able to see this amazing vagrant.

Ammodramus Adventures

2010-02-16T12:15:00.000-08:00

Over the past few weekends, I have done several Louisiana birding trips with one group of birds as the main target: the grassland birds. Being from the intermountain west, the 'grassland birds' always seemed out of reach, going through the center of the continent and hardly ever crossing the Rocky Mountains. So when I came here to Louisiana, I was hoping to pick up on these grassland birds that winter at forest fringes or reach the eastern edge of their range in this swampy state.

And so, two weekends ago, Jerry (cannot remember his last name, sorry), Jeff Harris, Kevin Morgan and I headed out into the pine-savannah of St. Tammany Parish. On the north shore of Lake Pontchartrian near the Mississippi border, this parish helps make the toe of Louisiana's 'boot' on a map. We arrived at about 8 o'clock in the morning to rondezvous with some New Orleans birders to find the elusive bird of the thick grasses: Henslow's Sparrow (Ammodramus henslowii).

When the entire group had assembled, we headed into the marshy grasses. Jeff explained to me that this area was actually a pitcher plant bog, one of a few in the state. Indeed, the first thing of interest we found in the entire area was a dead pitcher plant. These amazing plants entice insects to fly inside their leaves and digest them for additional nutrients in their nutrient-deprived environment. We continued on over these interesting plants, scaring up numerous Sedge Wrens (Cistothorus platensis)along the way. It was fun seeing these birds in their natural habitat, after only having seen the lone Western Colorado individual found by Ron Lambeth in the past.

After about an hour of scouring the field, we finally flushed up the bird we all desired. Unfortunately, the only views we had were of the Heslow's Sparrow flying quickly as it darted out of the way, but I was able to glimpse the diagnostic green face and darkish back on this amazing eastern Sparrow.

The next weekend, Kevin, Jeff and I decided to head north to Caddo Parish to try our luck with grassland species. We were not disappointed, finding a group of about six Lapland Longspurs in a field north of Shreveport. While there, we also had a small group of longspurs that I believe to be Chestnut-collareds as well! This is a review bird for Louisiana though, so we will have to see if it gets accepted. (Note to self: submit record.)

Later, we joined Terry Davis at the Shreveport Regional Airport:

Shreveport Regional Airport, Louisiana

Our goal bird was Smith's Longspur, possibly the hardest longspur to get in the world. Though we did not find them, we did have lots of other cool grassland birds, the most notable of which was a Sprague's Pipit! I got one other lifer there as well: Le Conte's Sparrow.

Two days later, I did some winter bird atlasing with Jeff and Jacob Saucier in Avoyelles Parish in an area known as big bend. This was some of the best lowland swamp forest I have ever seen, and we had a great time. Though species diversity was fairly low, we had a lot of cool birds, such as Pileated Woodpecker checking out a nest hole, Brown Creeper, Winter Wren, and Blue-headed Vireo.

Jacob Saucier in Big Bend

Until next time, good birding!

The Creature from the Flooded Woods

2010-02-02T12:20:00.000-08:00

The Louisiana Ornithological Society (LOS) field trip stared into the tangled, fallen mass of trunks. A chatter call erupted from the flooded timber, announcing the presence of an impossibly small bird for such a loud sound. Soon, the bird became visible to us all: an Eastern Winter Wren, a lifer for me and Kevin Morgan! The bird scurried up a trunk, checking out the loose bark and branch tangles for food. The bird was noticeably paler than the two other Winter Wrens I had seen in the United States before, confirming its Eastern identity.

The only other times I have seen Winter Wren in the United States it has been the "Western (Pacific)" Wren, two migrant birds observed in different years in the vicinity of Connected Lakes State Park in Grand Junction, Colorado. These birds are told apart by being noticeably darker and possessing a different song from their Eastern cousins. Recent studies show that are probably different species, and in the coming years will probably be split into two separate species. It will be interesting to see how many species the "Winter Wren" becomes in the future. It is currently the only wren known from the Old World, and studies may prove that the population I saw in Ireland and other scattered European, Asian and North African populations are isolated species of their own.

Again, I apologize for the brief post, but school has been keeping me busy. I will try to post more things (and more interesting things) in the near future. Until then, good birding!

All at once...

2010-01-25T15:58:00.000-08:00

Again, I've been bad about keeping up with my blog. No excuses, I know. So instead of going into a twenty page monologue about everything, I'll just put up a few updates:

Winter with David Bell: We got 80 species in Colorado, with highlights being White-tailed Ptarmigan (heard only), TWO Northern Pygmy-Owls, and all three Rosy-Finches.

My last day of break here in Louisiana, I got my lifer Armadillo, plus Allen's Hummingbird, Broad-winged Hawk, Buff-bellied Hummingbird, and almost 80 other more common southern species.

School: I am now back at school, and trying to conquer my biggest nemesis: CHEMISTRY.

As you can imagine, Chemistry has been taking up most of my time. I hope to get out birding more soon though. Also, I encourage you to check out David Bell's blog: http://ssmbirding.blogspot.com/ . He has a lot of good photos and stories.

Take care!

Farewell 2009

2010-01-06T11:30:00.000-08:00

"...Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end..." - Closing Time by Semisonic

A high pitched twitter announced it's presence. The imposing sandstone walls echoed with call, as my friend David Bell and I walked through the snow of Arches National Park. Ahead of me, the shape of a sparrow darted out towards the Dark Angel Trail parking lot, disappearing into the thick fog that had fallen over the plateau. Shortly thereafter, the small sparrow reappeared, flying up onto an overhead ledge, revealing it's identity as an 'Oregon' Dark-eyed Junco. As I watched the bird fly against the dark sky I realized that it was probably my last bird of the year, and I was right. As we walked out of the labyrinth of stone we failed to find a single other bird, and so my birding year came to an end. What had started with the chip of a Rufous-winged Sparrow had come to a close 467 species later in Utah. All in all, it was an excellent year. Below are some of my favorite birds of the year:

Black-vented Shearwater: my first pelagic lifer of all time was seen off of Santa Cruz Island

Magnificent Frigatebird: my lifer flew almost directly overhead on Elmer's Island in front of a coming storm

Neotropic Cormorants: a flock of several hundred (dare I say, thousands) was in Cameron Parish on the telephone wires

Wood Stork: a flock of 400 made the sky white with birds along the Mississippi river one day

Whooper Swan: I was privileged enough to get excellent looks at this beautiful Eurasian swan in Hagerman, Idaho in January

California Condor: seeing over a dozen of these imposing birds was simply incredible

Common Black-Hawk: I finally caught up with this nemesis near Sunflower, AZ; thanks Tyler!

White-rumped Sandpiper: the largest flock of these ever in AZ was one of my SE AZ highlights

Pomarine Jaeger: my lifer jaeger was spotted on the boat to Santa Cruz

Elegant Tern: seeing two of these awesome terns in Tucson was very cool

Buff-collared Nightjar: excellent views of this bird are something I will not soon forget

Sinaloa Wren: My first lifer of the year was this incredible Mexican endemic, the first ABA record

Gnatcatchers: seeing all four in a week was awesome

Varied Thrush: finally got to see this majestic bird in Tumacacori, Arizona

Olive Warbler: a bird in full sun near Williams, Arizona was one of my summer highlights

Day of the Ammodrammus sparrows: birding along the LA coast, we had a flock of several dozen Seaside Sparrows and Nelson's [Sharp-tailed] Sparrows

At the end of the day, it is hard to say any bird or any birding trip was better than any other though. To all of you who birded with me in the past year: I wish you a great new year, and look forward to what the future brings!

Iliaca

2009-12-17T15:48:00.000-08:00

Passerella iliaca. The Fox Sparrow. Long has this bird been an interest of mine. It is one of the most widespread sparrows, but also one of the hardest ones for me to find. In the summer time, I have the Slate-colored Fox Sparrows staked out in their willow carr haunts, but even there they are not common and a pleasant surprise to encounter. The Colorado subspecies, schistacea, is a rare wintering species in the valleys below the mountains in which it breeds, so when one showed up in Paonia, Colorado at my friend Dennis Garrison's office in Paonia, I decided that a Fox Sparrow was worth going after. But this was mostly because of the other Fox Sparrow currently there: iliaca, the Red Fox Sparrow. Long had I dreamed of seeing the nominate Fox Sparrow, the rusty red denizen of the northern Boreal realm, and the only Fox Sparrow of the eastern United States. So, on 16 December, I made the drive down. On the way, I picked up a few good year birds: Chukar on the road to Paonia, Harris's Sparrow in my friend Jason Beason's yard, and an Evening Grosbeak at Dennis Garrison's house. We then arrived at the sparrow spot. Sure enough, as soon as we arrived, we were greeted by the Slate-colored Fox Sparrow.

Passerella iliaca schistacea: Slate-colored Fox Sparrow, Paonia, Colorado.

The Red Fox Sparrow, however, was a no show. So I waited. And waited. I got to talking to Dennis about life in general, and we sorted through the numerous Juncos, with Gray-headed, Pink-sided, Oregon, and Slate-colored being present (and probably one or more subspecies of the above but I am not good enough to seperate that well). A Cooper's Hawk mobbed t

he feeders, a very reddish Song Sparrow almost gave me a heart attack every time it jumped out, and the Slate-colored Fox Sparrow put in quite a show. Just as Dennis began to say that it should show up at any time, there was a flash of red: it was the bird we were waiting for!

Passerella iliaca iliaca: The Red Fox Sparrow, Paonia, Colorado.

My lifer Red Fox Sparrow sat around for about a minute under the feeder, kicking up vegetation like an oversized junco. It soon flew back into the depths of the wood pile, and I was headed home. The bird was well worth the trip, and as I saw the some Lewis's Woodpeckers fly over the road, I realized it was good to be back in Colorado, and couldn't wait to see what tomorrow would bring.

Influences

2009-12-08T08:39:00.000-08:00

Recently, as I watched my dad suffer through the amazing cold and windy storm that struck Boyce Thompson Arboretum as we unsuccessfully searched for Rufous-backed Robin, I realized just how much people have helped me and influenced me in my birding career. My parents and their dedication to helping me see some birds and their tolerance when it comes to me being constantly distracted were instrumental in making me who I am today. And as my dad looked at me at Boyce Thompson and mentioned that I should put that on my blog, I realized just how much everyone has helped me get to where I am today.

So, at this time, I'd like to thank all of my birding friends for helping me become what I am today. Thank you all!

Vaux's Swifts

2009-12-07T14:27:00.000-08:00

In an interesting twist, my first Louisiana life bird upon returning from the west was nothing other than a Vaux's Swift! While birding briefly with Dan Lane after school one day, we saw eight of these awesome birds flying over City Park Lake in Baton Rouge. It's not every day you get Neotropic Cormorant and Vaux's Swift at the same location east of the Mississippi! At least, I thought not before coming to Louisiana... It seems I still have a lot to learn about the avifauna of this incredible region.

More posts to come soon - finals week + preparing for trips to Arizona and Montana = not much blogging.

Until next time, take care!

East Meets West

2009-11-30T18:40:00.000-08:00

Saturday, November 28, approximately 8:00 AM:

"I think I just heard a warbler chip."

"Sure it's not a Yellow-rumped?" Tyler Loomis, my birding friend from Tempe Arizona, started to look out the window.

"Not sure. Sounds a little different. There it is... it's the

Bay-breasted!"

There, moving through a tree not far away, was Arizona's 16th ever Bay-breasted Warbler. Luckily it had been sticking around and was easy to find. The cloudy sky made photographing hard but still allowed great views of the washed out rusty sides and greenish cap and wing bars. An instant classic.

I had always tried to imagine what a Bay-breasted Warbler would be like when I was younger. I heard birders talk about what an amazing bird it was, and always wanted to see one. I just never imagined how and where I'd finally catch up with this eastern bird. As we watched it forage in the same tree as an Arizona Woodpecker, I was awestruck by this stunning combo. I doubt I will ever see those two species at the same time again.

Tyler Loomis, his dad (hereafter Mr. Loomis) and I soon climbed back in the car. We had a long drive ahead of us for our next birding location of the day - Tumacacori. This spot along the Santa Cruz River has recently become popular for it's Rufous-backed Robins and Rose-throated Becard sightings. When we arrived along San Gertrudis Lane, however, all was quiet. Western Bluebirds and Northern Mockingbirds teased us among the bushes where the robin supposedly was, and a cold breeze rustled the yellow Cottonwood leaves. Seeing as the robins were a no-show, we headed down the creek looking for the Becard. Though we never found that bird either, Mr. Loomis spotted my second lifer of the day, a Varied Thrush!

Lifer Varied Thrush, Tumacacori, Arizona

The three of us then began to head north towards Phoenix once more. Ever watchful for good birds, we cut through Sweetwater Wetlands, seeing Lawrence's Goldfinches and hearing a Sora, and then headed to the Santa Cruz Flats. There, we were hit by an awesome sand storm, but still managed to get two Crested Caracaras and a Ferruginous Hawk.

Overall, it was a great day of birding in sunny Arizona.

Update

2009-11-23T13:21:00.000-08:00

Hi all,

Sorry I have been so terrible about putting up blog posts recently, but I have been extremely busy. I recently had some fairly major lung surgery on my left side to keep it from collapsing any more (three collapses this semester prompted this) and have been trying to catch up in school. Nevertheless, I have seen some good birds since my last post.

Over Halloween weekend, I went to the Louisiana Ornithological Society convention with Kevin Morgan in Cameron Parish. It was a great weekend, with Kevin and I finding/seeing some of the best birds of the weekend. At Peveto Woods, Kevin and I found an odd warbler that turned out to be a female Blackburnian (my first non-male of this species ever) and had a nice flyover by a Barn Owl. At the East Jetty, I spotted a group of three Long-billed Curlews down the beach and we had Semipalmated Sandpipers and Crested Caracaras hanging out around the viewing platform. Later on, we also co-found (along with James Maley and Jacob Saucier) the first ever Great Kiskadee for an LOS convention! Unfortunately, the 'best' bird of the weekend still has not been confirmed - an Alder Flycatcher that I heard and later photographed has still not been able to be confirmed through photos. Unfortunately, my being under the weather has postponed my posting of photos of this bird, but I will try to get on it soon.

The next day (Nov. 1), Kevin and I joined Jeff Harris and another gentleman whose name I forget at Lacassine. Out in a large raft of Lesser Scaup I spotted what I believe to have been a Greater, but the distance (and HUMIDITY!) prevented a positive ID. It was still nice to see all of the marsh birds though, and I got my state Virginia Rail and Sora in the long, unending swamp/prairie.

This past weekend I finally got out for the first time since my surgery. Though I got rained and flooded out, I still managed to get a new state bird - Dark-eyed Junco. A new campus bird was also had this week as I was talking to Andrea Robinsong on my cell phone and had a Great Horned Owl fly by.

Until next time, take care, and good birding!

Fun With Sparrows

2009-10-26T07:19:00.000-07:00

As I sat at LSU, I couldn't help but think of everything that was going on. I have suffered from two partially collapsed lungs in the past month and a half, perfectly timed for midterms. As one may expect, my grades began falling like a lung with a hole in it. Luckily, I am getting everything worked out now, and am under less pressure from school, but this last weekend, I knew exactly what I needed: a mental health day. A day that I could let myself slip away, and have fun before the tests this coming week. And as I walked out the door to my dorm and saw Jeff Harris drive up to pick me up, I knew that we were going to have a great day of birding the next day. Of course, how can you go wrong when you go to Grand Isle?

On Saturday morning, I awoke from a fitful slumber. It's hard to get a good sleep when you can't stop thinking about the birds that could be just down the street. I slowly raised myself from my couch/bed, and woke up Jacob Saucier across the room. As I woke up, I looked around at this high tech house we were staying in. It was so nice that I often forgot we were on stilts 14 feet off the air. This was the 'camp,' something that made me realize I would never say no to camping in Louisiana again. As we gathered our things in the living room and waited for the others to trickle in and be ready to go, we discussed what our first move would be. Kevin Morgan, Jeff Harris, Jacob Saucier and I discussed the best course of action for maximum bird potential. We soon decided on Sureway Woods, the Audubon property of live oaks behind your local neighborhood Sureway grocery. At first, things were rather slow. Jacob almost stepped on a Chuck-will's-widow that ended up knifing through the dark foliage, and we got a Swamp Sparrow while trying to refind the Chuck. The woods slowly began to light up, showing that the woods were really as empty as we had perceived in the dark. We found some Gray Catbirds and a calling Hooded Warbler, but then had no idea what to do. There were no birds anywhere it seemed. While we discussing other areas to go, I spotted a small bird flitting in a nearby tree: Black-throated Green Warbler! It took a few seconds for Jeff to get on the bird, and only a few more for him to realize we were looking in different directions. A calling Blue-gray Gnatcatcher joined the birds and a lone Blue-headed Vireo foraged in the canopy with them. 'The flock' was here! And just as quickly, it was gone. We soon all pressed onward to the other part of the forest across the road and ran into fellow birders Jane Patterson, Lainie Lahaye, and Sean, whose last name escapes me and was a visiting Cornell graduate looking for a grad school. As we wandered on, things began to pick up a little more. I soon spotted a Black-and-white Warbler and a Magnolia Warbler, while Jeff found a Veery running across the trail and I started losing track of who was spotting what around me. Though there wasn't much, there was a nice variety of birds.

Soon after this we decided to check out another track of woods in a neighborhood. I forget the name of these woods, but they didn't have anything extremely memorable in them. Sean spotted two Scissor-tailed Flycatchers in the neighborhood, and the woods held close to 100 White-winged Doves. We checked the beach briefly, where I decided to check the gulf. Suddenly, I spotted something a ways out, with long dark wings, and a flight that was definitely different than the other seabirds present. "HEY GUYS IT'S A... oh no wait, that's a harrier!" Sure enough, the bird turned out to be a Northern Harrier. Goes to show anything could be anywhere though...

Our next stop for the day was Exxon Fields. Kevin, Jacob, Jeff and I inched picking through the shorebirds, pulling out Stilt Sandpipers, Dunlin, Least Sandpipers, Short-billed Dowitchers, and even a sneaky Wilson's Snipe. While we were sitting there, I saw a hawk lilt harrier like over the field and then got a flash of the underside. "SWAINSON'S HAWK!" The other fumbled to get a better angle out of the car windows as I pointed it out. The angle on the bird remained terrible while we discussed how unlikely a Swainson's was here, until it turned again, revealing it's classic underside.
Swainson's Hawk, Exxon Fields, Grand Isle, Louisiana

Also out on the fields was a nice flock of about 30 Black-bellied Whistling-Ducks, always a pleasant surprise.

We then headed out to Elmer's Island to paruse the beach for the rest of the day. Sean needed his lifer Snowy Plover and I, my lifer Wilson's, so we began scouring everything for these two birds. Ironically, we found three Piping Plovers in the process but were inexplicably failing to find the other plovers. However, as we pushed further down, my luck returned. Thank goodness I had a camera...
...because there was this cooperative Wilson's Plover fighting another! LIFER! Also on the beach were cooperative Reddish Egrets, Sanderlings, Ruddy Turnstones, and a few Avocets out in the lagoon. As we drove down the beach again, Sean spotted his lifer Snowy Plover and a Lesser Black-backed Gull.

As the finale for the entire day, we stopped at a Seaside Sparrow spot, and ended up having not only Seaside Sparrows but 30-40 Nelson's Sharp-tailed Sparrows! They were extremely cooperative as well.

One of the Nelson's Sharp-tailed Sparrows that was a lifer for me, Lainie, and Kevin. And, my favorite pic of the day:
Seaside Sparrow at Elmer's Island.

Until next time, Good birding and thanks for reading!

Game Day in Cameron

2009-10-11T07:51:00.000-07:00

I walked around nervously, glancing upon the shelters in various states of disregard. Sections of grass were warning taped off, concrete areas fenced up, and the ESPN stage was surrounded by semis and people wanting to get the best seats for the show. The parking lots were filled, and people were everywhere. A giant semi truck full of beer drove by. I shuddered. The game was almost 24 hours away, and the campus was already starting to go into party mode. It was at this moment I realized how thankful I was that I would not be on campus tomorrow for the LSU x Florida game, and how much I was looking forward to Grand Isle.

4:45 AM: GAME DAY.

The lights of Baron Rouge reflected off of the low hanging clouds, making the sky glow an eerie, pale yellow. I sat in the front of the car, staring out the window as the windshield wipers whisked water from out field of view. I glanced back at the back seat, towards Jacob Saucier and Jeff Harris. Kevin flicked his blinker on and slowly eased off of the interstate. As he shifted his car and accelerated around a turn he glanced towards us, asking "So you guys for sure want to go to Cameron instead?" Jeff played with his iPhone a little more, and said "If we go to Grand Isle, it'll be raining for a good four hours probably. We can hit Cameron right after the front moves through though." Jacob excitedly sat up in his seat. "We could hit Cameron right after the front... That would be perfect!" Kevin started accelerating up the ramp westward, towards the land that just a few weeks ago produced my lifer Seaside Sparrow, Upland Sandpiper and more. We crossed the river and entered the Atchafalaya Basin, it's unending swamps made even more daunting by the darkness that gripped them. As we headed west, the sun slowly began to rise, but by the time it had become light enough to see, the trees were far behind us.

We raced southward through the Cameron Prairie. A prairie, by definition, is a large expanse of grassy, treeless land that is mostly flat. In Louisiana, this means it must be mostly underwater as well. The endless boggy grasslands are home to thousands of water birds and hundreds of gators. As we drove towards the coast, I got to see my first big flocks of Greater White-fronted Geese that had arrived for the winter, locally known as Specklebellies. Before I knew it, we were at the coast, with the Gulf of Mexico stretching out into distance ahead, all the way to the Yucatan hundreds of miles away. Here, at the beach, we had a Merlin perched on some litter and a Scissor-tailed Flycatcher bracing itself against the cool winds. A welcome change from the 90+ degree weather the day before was this post-front coolness, with temperatures of 67 degrees forcing all the cold and wet critters to hunker down. As the sun began to warm the land, we decided to go to Peveto Woods, the legendary migrant trap of Cameron Parish.

When we first arrived at Peveto, it was pretty quiet. Almost instantly though, the birds (and the neverending mosquito hordes) made their presence known. As we stepped into the woods, we were bombarded by the biggest American Redstart flock I have ever seen. Almost every tree we looked in had one of these flashy warblers, and it was not uncommon to have up to ten of these little warblers in view at the same time! As we slowly walked into the forest, the other eastern migrants made themselves known. Canada Warblers flitted through the brush, a male Magnolia Warbler fed in some ragweed, and a Hooded Warbler darted through the undergrowth. Indigo Buntings were flying all around us, accompanied by their giant cousins, the Blue Grosbeaks. The forest was teeming with Ruby-throated Hummingbirds, who fought over the few flowers, defending their small migratory food stores. The hummingbirds possibly outnumbered even the Redstarts, with birds flying past your field of view every few seconds. Kevin soon spotted a female Selasphorus hummingbird on some morning glory. The hummer (probably a Rufous) darted around these woods so atypical for a Western hummingbird, chasing around the Ruby-throats that tried to use his flowers. As we continued on, Nashville Warblers and Ruby-crowned Kinglets joined the Redstarts, and some Black-and-white Warblers crept along the trees. A Common Yellowthroat called from some tangles, and Eastern Wood-Pewees darted amongst the branches. Jacob spotted a Yellow-bellied Flycatcher as a Baltimore Oriole fed in a nearby tree. The woods were simply incredible. Everywhere you looked had birds, be they Tennessee Warblers or Yellow-billed Cuckoos. It was one of the best birding spots I have ever been to, and even got two life birds out of the short visit: Black-throated Green Warbler and Philadelphia Vireo. As we watched a Reddish Egret prance on the beach just outside of the woods, we decided that it was time to move on, and to try to get some birds further down the road.

After several minor stops, each of which having Black-and-white Warblers or Northern Waterthrushes or other day birds, we ventured towards Rutherford Beach, the place where Chris West and I had found my lifer Seaside Sparrows on my last trip. Out towards the middle of the marsh, we pulled over and decided to play some Rail tapes. Though we tried almost every tape, we were only able to elicit vocal responses from two of the rails: Clapper Rails and King Rails. In these giant coastal marshes, these large Rallus species segregate out by salinity of the water, with Clappers in the most saline environments and Kings in the freshest, and all their hybrid young running around in the brackish marsh. We were soon able to get a bird out in the open with the Clapper Rail tape that was a hybird, and amazingly, he came within several feet!

Rallus elegans x longirostris, Rutherford Beach, Cameron Parish, Louisiana

Though we didn't get a pure Clapper to come out for photos, we did get this male King Rail to come check us out:

Why did the King Rail cross the road? I think the hybrid in the background is wondering the same thing...

King Rail checking us out from a few feet away.

I do have a lot more pictures of these rails, and I can (almost) guarantee that at some point in the future I will have a post dedicated to separating out King Rails, Clapper Rails, and their hybrids.

Also near the location where we harassed about a dozen rails was a new state bird for me - White-tailed Kite! I spotted it sitting in a dead tree along one of the canal roads.

After playing in the marsh, we headed back to Cameron to check out one of the Gulf shorelines for waders and other odd things. On our way there, I spotted a Crested Caracara flying across the a parking lot! It was a life bird for Jeff, which made me feel better as I was now not the only one getting lifers on a routine Louisiana birding day. Though we did not get good views, it was awesome to see one again. We continued on to the beach, where Jacob instantly spotted another state bird for me and a life bird for Jeff - a Long-billed Curlew. We soon walked up to the platform, and could see several hundred American White Pelicans, as well as a gigantic Black Skimmer flock, numerous Laughing Gulls, a few Marbled Godwits, a Whimbrel (lifer number three for Jeff), and two Lesser Black-backed Gulls. In the winter time, this location has had Short-eared Owl and is also supposed to good for Nelson's [Sharp-tailed] Sparrow, so I have a feeling I will be returning in the near future...

After this stop, we headed north towards Lacassine NWR in Jeff Davis Parish, picking up our Peregrine Falcons #6, #7, and #8 for the day as well as Merlin #~10. We arrived at Lacassine near dark and quickly birded through one of the loops. Black-bellied Whistling-Ducks, thousands of Plegadis ibis and Greater White-fronted Geese crisscrossed the sky. As we were heading out, Jeff spotted a harrier out over the marsh. We stopped, and I got my binocs on the bird and froze. It was a SHORT-EARED OWL! We quickly piled out of the car, trying to get scopes on the bird when it flew. No white rump indicated that it definitely was not a harrier and that this bounding crepuscular creature was indeed Asio flammeus. It was a lifer for me, Kevin, and Jacob, giving each of us a lifer for the day. Just when we thought the action was over, Kevin's lifer American Bittern slowly flapped over the road ahead of us. We then began to race towards Baton Rouge in order to get back before the game let out, and talked about the incredible day we just had. It is a day of birding I shall not soon forget.

Big Green Big Day / Fossil Fuels Find Flycatchers

2009-10-04T12:17:00.000-07:00

This weekend, my friend John F. Garrett of Los Angeles, California and I decided to do Green Big Days in our respective areas. I have yet to hear of his final results, but have no doubt he got more than me. Regardless, I had an awesome day. Venturing out to the levee several times and wandering through the live oaks on campus produced several good birds, 56 species in all. Highlights are below:

Wood Duck: Presumably going towards a communal roost, the seemingly endless stream of Wood Ducks overhead around 6:45 PM totaled around 120, though I probably undercounted greatly.

Common Nighthawk: Not a bird I am used to seeing this late in the year, the five birds along the levee yesterday evening were fun to watch.

Eastern Wood-Pewee: A new campus bird for me, I was able to find three of these flycatchers around LSU.

Mourning Warbler: My year bird of this species was along the Mississippi River below the levee. My thanks go to Jason Beason for helping me ID this species. If not for a story he once told me about a bird he caught in eastern Colorado, I would not have realized what I was looking at!

Northern Parula: Pausing briefly at a construction site in front of one of my classes revealed this new campus bird for me. I later found another by one of the dining halls.

Canada Warbler: Taking the cake for the day, in my opinion, was a lone female Canada Warbler in a Chickadee flock in one of the most urbanized and worst-bird-habitat parts of campus: the Greek Row on Dalrymple.

Today, I took a break from my environmentally friendly attitude and drove down to Richfield Riversilt with Van Remsen, Amy Shutt, Josh Sylvest and some other (I'm sorry I'm bad with names). Overall, it was a pretty dead day with our best birds being Nashville Warbler and a flock of Wood Storks. however, as we were leaving, I saw the profile of a shirke-like bird with a long tail. I looked at it through my binoculars, and immediately got the others on it. It looked like Kingbird, but definitely not an Eastern Kingbird. Van took one look and was able to confirm that it was indeed not an Eastern Kingbird, but a Scissor-tailed Flycatcher! This was a new parish bird for me, and probably the only one I will see east of the Mississippi this year. Score one for fossil fuels finding the rarest bird of the weekend!

Until next time, take care!

Unexpected Problems

2009-09-27T11:57:00.000-07:00

For those of you who follow my blog, I know I alluded to a good post this week, but alas, life intervened. As I write this, a pelagic trip is being conducted out of Venice, Plaquemines Parish, Louisiana. I was one of the first to sign on for the trip, but on Monday night, I suffered from sudden extreme pain in my upper left chest. When the pain remained Tuesday morning, I went to the doctor and was informed that I had suffered from a spontaneous pnuemothorax. In layman's terms: my left lung partially collapsed for no reason. I was in the hospital for most of the remaining week, and avoided my dorm room for a few days as one of my room mates was just diagnosed with swine flu. For the time being, I am confined to nearby areas until my lung heals up all the way.

I am doing fine now, but will be grounded from crazy trips for at least a month. (Fortunately, my next crazy trip is ~ two months away.) Until next time, take care!

Catching up on Common Birds

2009-09-20T12:55:00.000-07:00

For the past several weeks, I have had the opportunity to bird with several people throughout Louisiana and catch up on many 'common' birds that I had never seen before. I don't have time to write out a whole post today, but thought I'd leave a brief update of some of the common Eastern birds I have been able to see for the first time. I will write more in a week, as I will be going on a Gulf of Mexico pelagic for Sooty Terns, Wilson's Storm-Petrels and any other birds we may happen acorss in the big blue. Until next time, take care!

New birds this weekend:

Hooded Warbler (Wilsonia citrina) - finally saw and heard this species for the first time in Sherburne. After getting over my initial awe, I found about twenty more in two days. Still a spectacular bird.

Magnolia Warbler (Dendroica magnolia) - a male of this species feeding in some roadside ragweed was a pleasant surprise. This species was hypothetical for me before this weekend, having heard a bird that I thought was this species in Grand Junction, Colorado in September 1998(?).

Yellow-throated Vireo (Vireo flavifrons) - after getting into appropriate habitat today, I got to see two of these spectacular birds. They were previously a heard only bird for me from Virginia and Washington D.C.

Grand Isle

2009-09-16T10:08:00.000-07:00

I slammed the door on the Ford Taurus and looked over at Chris West and Lanie Collette. "I'm going to hit the woods real fast, but I'll wait for you guys." They walked into the Sureway grocer, and I walked down to the end of the row of stores, glancing to my right at the beachfront levee. This was Grand Isle in Jefferson Parish, one of the most famous birding spots in Louisiana, and the location of two Black-whiskered Vireos this spring. As I reached the end of the row, I turned, and looked down a road from another era. I don't know what Grand Isle looked like before the tourists came, but I have a feeling it was something like what I saw before me: a desolate road vanishing into the dark oaks of the coastal ridge, beckoning and foreboding. I walked down the lane and scared up a Chuck-will's-widow. I smiled, and wondered how many more were out there if Chris and I flushed one yesterday in Cameron. I continued deeper into this enchanted forest, but failed to find any birds. I thought back to Peveto, and realized that, not only were the birds here, but that they were in a flock. I just had to find the flock. I walked down to the end of the road, and saw a lone Blue-gray Gnatcatcher flitting in the oaks. I started pishing, and waited. After about five minutes, a Red-eyed Vireo flew in. I smiled, realizing that the flock was on its way. Soon, about 20 Red-eyed Vireos were flitting amongst the branches and I spotted a Canada Warbler on a branch, and kept watching the birds. A quick pause by an Empidonax flycatcher on a branch became my first life bird for the day: a Yellow-bellied Flycatcher. A trail bisected their numbers, but I told Chris and Lanie I would wait for them. They soon arrived, and we headed into the trees. Two Black-and-white Warblers crawled along the branches, and an American Redstart danced about in the branches. Chris sooned chimed in witha "Blue-winged Warbler!" I turned around and found myself 'face-to-face' with a male Blue-winged Warbler, another life bird for me. We watched the birds flitting through the canapy and I realized that all the birds we had seen had been in the upper stories, except for the Canada Warbler I saw earlier. I then began checking the low bushes for Oporornis warblers and was quickly rewarded with my third life bird for the day, an adult Kentucky Warbler. The flock had mostly left us by this time, so we wandered off into other parts of the forest, with Chris spotting another American Redstart and a pair of Canada Warblers. We soon decided to head out towards Elmer's Island for pelagic birds, as the heat began to make the land birds die down.

Elmer's Island WMA is mostly marsh with a small cobblestone area to drive across the mudflats for about 200 yards and then play on the beach. Here, where the cobblestones end at the surf, was a small concrete platform began eaten away by the ceaseless waves rolling off the gulf, stood three birders scanning the endless ocean for birds. The shorebirds cooperated very well, with Ruddy Turnstone and Semipalmated Plover coming within feet of us, and a distant Piping Plover down the beach entertaining us as well. About a thousand Black Terns moved up and down the beach, and Royal and Caspian Terns plunged into the water. While Chris was scanning the distant flocks of birds for shearwaters, jaegers and gannets, a glanced upward in time to see one of the most incredible birds I have ever seen. As I grabbed my binoculars, I shouted to Lanie and Chris "FRIGATEBIRD!" The Magnificent Frigatebird has a wingspan comparable to a pelican, but it is a bird the size of a goose. It's wings are long and drawn out, like an albatross, and the impressive black body with the white revealed that this was a young bird. Over the course of the next hour, I was able to pick out two more in the distance, slowly and laboriously flapping as the looked down upon the swarms of seabirds, just waiting until one presented intself as the perfect target. As we searched the endless skies for Northern Gannets, a storm began to roll in off the gulf. The people around us slowly began to depart, until we were all that remained on the section of beach. Within five seconds, the temperature dropped and the wind picked up by thirty miles an hour. I clung to the tripod, determined to continue scoping the ocean. Chris finally said "I saw a gannet, let's run!" Although I had not seen the bird, I was beyond the point of caring. I grabbed the scope, turned around and ran. Unfortunately, I forgot to wear a belt, and my pants started to fall down. I paused to grab them and it was too late. The downpour hit me. I continued to run down the cobblestones, and finally made it back to Chris's car soaked but no worse for wear.

On our way back, we paused briefly for lunch at the nearby Kajun Eatery. There, I had a delicious cheeseburger and stepped outside breifly. I scared up a really dark colored House Sparrow, and though it was kind of odd. Soon, the bird returned, and I was aware that this was not a House Sparrow but an Ammodramus. Chris came outside and I said "Check out the House Sparrow." He glanced up and said "Yeah they're... Wait. That's not a House Sparrow!" I chuckled and said "I know, I think it's an Ammodramus. Probably Seaside." Chris nodded and agreed that that was indeed what it was. As we went to our cars, we found six more picking the bugs off of car grills and the window screens. It was a great opportunity the Seaside Sparrows, which I dubbed the 'Cajun House Sparrow.'

The rest of the day was uneventful, as Chris drove across the Pontchartrain Causeway and returned me to LSU, and life fell back into it's normal pace. However, now that I know what is out there and what goodies lie in the coastal groves of oak and acacia, I can't help but be impatient to return. You never know what will show up next...

Goin' Coastal

2009-09-15T09:19:00.000-07:00

Chris West and I drove down I-10 West, heading for the legendary parish of Cameron, Louisiana. Now famous for the Crowned Slaty-Flycatcher collected there in 2008 (the first time this species was ever found north of Panama!), Cameron has long been known in Louisiana for being amazing in general. In the past, Painted Redstart, Red-faced Warbler, hundreds of Groove-billed Anis, nesting Great Kiskadees and other spectacular birds have been found along the coastal cheniers of woods, isolated from the south by the Gulf of Mexico, and from the north by dozens of miles of Saltmarsh and Coastal Prairie. This creates a migrant trap collecting birds from every direction. Chris and I crossed the saltmarshes on our way southward after dark, pausing for a moment to see what was out at night. The calls of a Yellow-crowned Night-Heron quickly disappated into the unending marsh, and I was able to spot a roadside Alligator, watching me with ill intent. We soon got back in the car and headed towards Sabine, Texas, where we spent the night in Louisiana a little ways before crossing the bridge.

The next morning, we began parusing down the coast, stopping at the local beaches to see the scatted small groups of Western Sandpiper and Sanderling. At out second stop, we happened about Peveto Woods, a small, coastal patch of Oaks that is where the Crowned Slaty-Flycatcher was found. We got out of the car, bathed in bugspray, and headed into the woods, beating off deer flies the entire time. I went to the right, Chris to the left. I found nothing, as the flock was to the left. I ran to join Chris, and saw the lone Blackburnian Warbler he had found among the numerous Red-eyed Vireos. We began working our way eastward through the woods, and were surprised by a Chuck-will's-widow that flew around breifly. As we ventured towards where the bird was in hopes of refinding it, we found another small flock of migrants. Again, Red-eyed Vireos dominated the flock, but there were some warblers to pick out. After about ten minutes, we called it quits when all we could find were two Black-and-white Warblers, a Yellow Warbler, a Canada Warbler and a lone Prothonotary Warbler. Little did we know that just an hour or so later, another group of birders would arrive to not only miss our warblers but find a pair of Bell's Vireos.

As we continued on along the coastal ridgelines, we paused to photograph a perched Common Nighthawk. Though we only found two non-flying nighthawks, the fact that one of these was on the powerlines makes me think there were dozens of birds in the area.

Common Nighthawk, Cameron Parish, Louisiana

Near this nighthawk, we also found a small freshwater puddle with Short-billed Dowitcher, Semipalmated Sandpiper, Baird's Sandpiper, Western Sandpiper, Stilt Sandpiper, and Black-necked Stilt.

We soon came to Holly Beach, a place that in the past has had Brown Booby and Black-legged Kittiwake, and decided to check out one of the first flocks of gulls and terns that we came to. I lifted my binoculars and noticed that the first bird I looked at had extremely short legs for a tern. Something about the bird bothered me, and I decided to check out the other birds and come back. As I worked my way across, Chris said "Whoa, did you see this tern?" Without glancing up, I said "The one on the right?" He kept staring and said "Yeah. Something just doesn't seem right. The legs and all... wait, could it be an Arctic?" Chris handed me his camera and I quickly snapped a few pics of the bird perched near an Common Tern. We kept studying the bird and it took flight briefly before alighting again, and then took off for good. Extremely pale wings with little/no black and the smallish bill on the bird all point to Arctic Tern. However, Chris's camera malfunctioned later during the trip so, as of yet, we have no confirmation on this terns identity.

Chris and I continued on our eastward puch along the gulf, checking out Caspian and Royal Terns as they passed over and stopping at several roadside oaks, finding Yellow-billed Cuckoo, Orchard Oriole, Northern Waterthrush and my state Hairy Woodpecker. Some of our other roadside stops even turned up Clapper Rail and Seaside Sparrow (a life bird). At one of these roadside stops near a lake, we found a gigantic flock of Neotropic Cormorants. They covered the wires like pigeons, making them sag incredibly low. We estimated there might be several thousand birds. I later learned that, had we counted them all individually, this almost certainly would have been a record high count for the state. I did manage to snag a single picture of one of the smaller Cormorant groups.

Neotropic Cormorants, Cameron Parish, Louisiana

It was at about this point of the day that the storms finally rolled in off of the gulf and forced us to leave Cameron Parish, and we headed in to southern Vermilion Parish next door for a little looking around. We were only there for a little while, but I did manage to get my lifer Fulvous Whistling-Ducks flying over and find a Swainson's Hawk, a pretty good bird for Louisiana.

We decided to wrap up for the day and headed even further east, managing to get Black-bellied Whistling-Duck above Highway 90. And, as the sun set, we neared our birding location for day two: Grand Isle.

Megascops asio

2009-09-14T09:05:00.000-07:00

The cool, humid breeze blew down the levee, carrying with it a faint whinny and tremelo call. "I'm telling you, he is right here." The Barred Owl pair called into the darkness, hoping to assert themselves as the top predator in these woods. We stared at the brush before us, waiting for the Megascops asio, the Eastern Screech-Owl, to appear. We scanned the trees and bushes with our dying spotlight, waiting for the inevitable darkness to win out and force us home without our bird. Just then, Chris West paused momentarily in the low bushes. "Got him!" I looked down, and instantly replied to Chris that "It's a red morph!" Adam Ulissy, my friend from LSU and ride for the night, just stared at the bird. "This is so cool." As we watched the little owl, I looked at Chris and asked if I could have the spotlight. I had a feeling we could get a whole lot closer. We began creeping up towards the owl, using the spotlight to keep ourselves hidden from the bird. When I paused for the last time before it took flight, we were four feet from this incredible bird. It was the first Eastern Screech-Owl Adam or I had ever seen, and it was Chris's first red morph bird. It was spectacular. However, karma came back to us for spotlighting all those owls, as we crested the levee and in turn were spotlighted by the Baton Rouge Police Department. After breifly explaining what the three of us were doing, the cop left and told us to have a good night. I wondered why he checked us out until I checked my clock and found it was four minutes after midnight. We had been looking for the owl for an hour and a half almost. And it was all worth it.

To count or not to count?

2009-09-06T08:44:00.000-07:00

Today was a pretty dead day bird wise. Besides the Brown-headed Cowbirds (7000 was our final count?), the Northern Waterthrushes an a cooperative Yellow-billed Cuckoo, not much was out an about. The skies seemed empty now that the Wood Storks had moved on, and a Roseate Spoonbill flying alone overhead was merely an echo of what was here before. However, while we were wandering around, the rapid hoots and subsequent whinnies of an Eastern Screech-Owl got out attention. As we sat there looking towards the dense underbrush, I realized one of the qualms about listing: the notorious heard only bird.

Throughout my life, I have only counted birds I have seen, and have gone to great lengths to see said birds. Getting views of birds such as Buff-collared Nightjars and Great Gray Owls can be difficult (unless you get lucky), but is very rewarding in the end. However, there are the occasional birds that you can never seem to get a good look at. The rocky pillars and odd canyons of Chiricahua National Monument managed to hide the Eared Quetzal from me the entire time I was there, only allowing it's unique squealing call to escape from the labyrinth of hodoos. It was birds such as the quetzal that made me start to count heard birds, but now, I am taking another approach. I have set up my life list with two columns: one for Heard Only (H/O) birds, and one for my 'Life List.' It seems only right to count the birds that you have seen, as you miss critical details and, in a way, the essence of the bird if you don't see it. Now, for competitions, year lists, and work I count heard birds regularly without giving it a second thought. But my life list not some competition or work related thing. It is like my personal diary. I can look through the spreadsheets at the birds I have seen and where, and remember everything I did around the time that I saw the bird. And, for that reason, my life list will only include seen birds.

As it stands now: Life List = 572 (H/O = 8).

And as a side note: I got attacked by fire ants for the first time today, but am fine.

South Farm

2009-08-19T14:28:00.000-07:00

South Farm. I had heard the name before, being uttered by the Louisiana birdfolk as an awesome place to go. In my memory, I tried to sort out what all had been reported there... Black-bellied Whistling-Duck, Buff-breasted Sandpiper, and JABIRU?

"That is a common misunderstanding," Kevin Morgan explained to me as we walked along the ditch. "The bird was in a different area nearby." And, as Steve Cardiff later told me, "The [Jabiru] was actually at 'North Farm,' some private property nearby. It was looked for at South Farm, but besides the two guys that found it, it was never seen again."

And so, into this mysterious and foggy location I ventured with Kevin Morgan, a birder from Baton Rouge who offered to take me around today. I looked through the vines, the oaks, and the plentiful greenery that is, well, green. It'll take a while to get used to. I heard a hard chip, and wondered what would be at right now. I quickly spotted a waterthrush moving up a branch and, upon further inspection, was able to determine it was a Northern Waterthrush. A year bird! My second for the day, after that goofy looking Wood Stork on the top of the tree a few minutes past. Then, erupting from the forest, my third year bird of the day: a Barred Owl announcing itself through the mist. Unfortunately, the bird blended in with its natural haunts all too well, and never revealed itself to me.

Kevin and I pushed forward through the trees along the desolate road, flushing up Yellow Warblers, Prothonotary Warblers, and even convincing a pair of Yellow-billed Cuckoos to clack at us from above. We neared a bend and there it was: South Farm.

This is where the realization dawned on me as to why this birding place was spectacular. No crops of any sort where farmed here. It was a crawfish farm. How many crawfish you may ask? According to the sign, "Limit of 100 pounds of Crawfish per Vehicle per Day." That's a lot of crawfish.

The abundant watery ditches and drying fields yeilded a bounty of birds. A flock of 60 or so Wood Storks took to the air ahead of us, while Tricolored and Little Blue Herons flew every which way and Green Herons called while darting through the cypress. As we continued on, Common Moorhens and Purple Gallinules showed themselves in the open and Least Sandpiper hordes ran along the banks. A Roseate Spoonbill flew over, and several Plegadis Ibis flew by, one revealing itself to be a Glossy. We continued onward still, and soon digressed onto a small wooded trail where, lo and behold, I found myself in a staring contest with a low-perched BARRED OWL! It was incredible. As we worked our way back towards the car, the goodies kept on coming. Great Crested Flycatcher, another cuckoo, Blue Grosbeak, and cardinals as far as the eye could see. We evntually made it back to the car, but didn't make it far. How can you not stop for a family group of Black-bellied Whistling-Ducks?

We then drove over to the other section of Sherburne WMA, and found even more great birds. Painted Bunting, Summer Tanager, and American Redstart were definitely the highlights. But, unfortunately, I had to head back to school, where the only birds to be found are Fish Crows, Carolina Chickadees, Tufted Titmice, Downy Woodpeckers, Northern Cardinals, Northern Mockingbirds, and the occasional House Sparrow. Now that I think about it, that is nothing to complain about!

In addition to birding, Kevin, who graduated from LSU as a history major, filled me in on a lot of Louisiana's history, giving me a better idea of what the state I live in is really like. My favorite history lesson for the day:

The Huey P. Long bridge was built as a railroad and automobile bridge over the Mississippi River during the depression. For a long time, it was the only way to cross the river other than a ferry until Interstate 10 was built. Trying to boost Louisiana's economy, Long made the bridge extra special so that it could be the bridge that could keep on giving back to the community of Baton Rouge. All bridges on the Mississippi are built to accomodate the large, ocean going ships coming up the river to the ports in Louisiana and Mississippi (the state). So, when the bridge was made, Long lowered the clearance just enough to prevent all seaworthy vessels from passing under it, forcing them to unload their cargo in Baton Rouge and re-pack it into river going vessels to continue upstream, thereby increasing the traffic and business in the Port of Baton Rouge.

Until next time, take care and good birding!

LSU

2009-08-17T13:49:00.001-07:00

I know I haven't posted in a while, but a lot has been going on. After arriving back from Arizona again (looking for Black Swifts), I had to leave for College. And I have to say, college is AWESOME! I am about to start classes here at Louisiana State University in Baton Rouge, and am still getting used to everything that is new here. As I write this, I have an entire change of clothes spread out drying behind me because my western Colorado mind though "Those clouds look like rain. How bad can it be?" Within minutes, water two inches deep was pouring off of all the buildings and across all the sidewalks. Next time, I'll take a coat. Also, the birds here are awesome. I'm so used to seeing House Sparrows, House Finches, American Crows and European Starlings out west, so seeing Carolina Chickadees in front of my dorm room window while listening to the whistles of Tufted Titmice will take a little getting used to. One of my favorite parts of the day was when I was on my way to meet James Van Remsen and two Fish Crows flew in. Their comedic calls were quickly joined by those of a Downy Woodpecker and a small group of Blue Jays foraging in the Live Oaks here on campus. I never thought I would have all these as yard birds. Even the sight of Northern Cardinals in the bushes by the college doors makes me pause for a second, even though they are dirt common here.

I will try to post more in the future, and hope to get some awesome pictures of Louisiana birds here in the coming months. Until next time, take care!

A Post for the End of July

2009-07-29T21:42:00.000-07:00

I know it has been too long since I last posted, and I apologize. I have been conducting Colorado Breeding Bird Atlas work for the White River National Forest in the Hunter-Fryingpan, Maroon Bells-Snowmass, and Holy Cross Wilderness Areas as well as a few other locations. I was also doing the amazingly fun activity known as 'data entry.' However, I did manage to get one life bird this month (thanks to Andrea Robinsong): an ALDER FLYCATCHER in Gunnison County! The bird, one of two located by Micheal O'Brien, was on the side of Highway 50 with a Willow Flycatcher, offering a good comparison. I am off in a few days to go to Arizona with Jason Beason, and will post after that. Until then, I will leave you with a parting shot of a Pika, perhaps one of my favorite creatures residing in Colorado.

Brown-backed Solitaire - Huachuca Mountains

2009-07-17T11:52:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, the Camp Chiricahua group comprised of young birders from across the country located a Brown-backed Solitaire (Myadestes occidentalis) in Miller Canyon above Beatty's Guest Ranch in the Huachuca Mountains above Sierra Vista, Arizona. If accepted, this will be a first ABA record of this species. Recordings and photographs were obtained, and soon after Dave Jasper (the camp's leader) got the word out. A few other people detected the bird, some seeing it at the original location and others hearing it's beautiful song.

In Mexico, the Brown-backed Solitaire is a denizen of the Pine-Oak mountains from Sonora south through Honduras, also occuring in the mountains of eastern Mexico. All previous records from the United States have been dismissed as feral birds, as it is one of the most common caged birds in Mexico due to its incredible song. Recordings of this song can be heard here (scroll down below the map): http://xeno-canto.org/species.php?query=brown-backed+solitaire

This species is regarded by many to be 'the most spectacular in the New World.' Hopefully the species will finally be accepted on the ABA checklist.

California Condors on the Kolob

2009-06-24T14:18:00.000-07:00

On my way to a brief weekend break in Colorado with my friend Chris West, we took a brief detour through Zion National Park to the Kolob Terrace. Recently, there was a Condor festival in the area and it was said that several condors were in the area. So, we drove up the road the said distance the festival adds said and found two cars on the roadside. One belonged to a Condor researcher who was listening to the radio trackers, and another belonging to some other tourists. I pulled over, and asked if they knew where exactly the condors were. "Here" was there simple reply, and it was right then that I spotted the following approximately a hundred feet away:

As if it could not get any better, another California Condor flew directly overhead, so closely that it could not fit inside my lens! I managed to snap one decent in flight picture:

It was about this time that I came to the conclusion that California Condors are one of America's most incredible birds. By day's end, we saw about nine condors, all at close range. The man working with the condors that we ran into told us that later in the summer it is not uncommon to have forty (40!) condors at this site. All of these birds were originally released in the Vermilion Cliffs, and found their way to the sheep-rich hills north of Zion. Food is so plentiful that the birds even ignore the food drops the researchers place for the birds. I hope one day to see these birds in even more areas, as they begin to recolinize their former range (Oregon to Northern Mexico eastward to Big Bend, Texas).

Wrapping Up the South Rim

2009-06-16T05:24:00.000-07:00

Over the past week, I have been finishing up my surveys on the South Rim, a task I do not extremely enjoy. It seems that on the North Rim, my accommodations will not be as spectacular, or possible not even existent. All of these qualms aside, though, the home stretch of the South Rim can be described in one way: Awesome birds, terrible transects. Over the past week, I have had two Northern Goshawks, two Northern Pygmy-Owls (one of which was seen fighting in mid-air with a female Black-headed Grosbeak), Williamson's Sapsucker (state bird), Clark's Nutcracker (state bird), Downy Woodpecker (state bird), and American Three-toed Woodpecker (state bird). Though not on a transect, Andrew and I also pulled off finding four California Condors on the South Rim.
California Condor (picture from 1/2 mile away).

The transects, on the other hand, were terrible. It took my an hour to walk 5oo meters through some of that terrain.... Hopefully the North Rim is more kind.

Huachuca Mountains - Sunday

2009-06-08T18:40:00.000-07:00

On Sunday, Tyler Loomis and I drove over to the Huachuca Mountains to try for the Berylline Hummingbird again. Tyler had yet to see this species, and I told him we could try for it. While he was watching for the hummer though (unsuccessfully), he managed to spy two Northern Goshawks circling overhead (that I missed) and I was shown three day roosting Whiskered Screech-Owls from just a few feet away. That night, we drove up Carr Canyon to camp, and to meet Andrew Spencer and Chris West. We didn't all coordinate at the same area until 3:30, and then slept in a little, waiting for the 50 mph wind gusts to die down. When they finally did, the birding was awesome. I got my first Buff-breasted Flycatchers and Greater Pewees of the year, as well as Yellow-eyed Junco, Olive Warbler, and Red-faced Warbler on the nest. There were Band-tailed Pigeons everywhere in these hills too. Soon though, Tyler, Chris and I made the executive dicision to hit Miller Canyon again while Andrew tried to sound record some flycatchers and warblers.

When we got to Miller Canyon, we lazed our way up the hill, and began the long wait for the hummingbird. White-eared Hummingbirds, Magnificents, Blue-throateds and half a dozen other species swarmed the oaks trying to get their sugar fix. Chris and I soon grew bored, and decided to let Tyler fend for himself with the Berylline. Not long after we left, he succeeded in his quest and rejoined us up canyon, and we searched up for more birds, specifically the recently reported Spotted Owls. Though we were unsuccessful in this venture, we did manage to see a Black Bear and three seperate Red-faced Warblers, coming as close as three feet, but only allowing me to obtain this one decent photo (after editing):

Soon after our fun with the warblers, we headed into Sierra Vista for lunch, and Tyler discovered that four Elegant Terns had materialized in the state overnight. We all looked at each other. We knew what we had to do next.

Lo and behold, two short hours later, my lifer Elegant Tern, my 550th world bird (you can see a second Elegant Tern in the background):

Here, we were forced to part our seperate ways, having successfully completed another whirlwind weekend of birding. I'm almost scared to see where I'll be in just a week or two...

QUETZAL

2009-06-06T12:30:00.000-07:00

OK, so here goes....

I know I have not completely told the story of last weekend, so I have to sum it up to tell the story of this weekend: from where I left off, we got Berylline Hummingbird, Lucifer Hummingbird, and then went to California Gulch and SAW Buff-collared Nightjar. It was incredible. The next day, we got Five-striped Sparrow, Flame-colored Tanager, and Common Black-Hawk. I will try to post pictures eventually, but this weekend started to interfere with that.

On Friday, I was forced to cancel work due to the wind. I don't usually mind a single day off, but my boss called and told me to just take the entire weekend off - the weather was not going to improve. So I took his advice, and began the long drive to Portal. When I was about a third of the way there, however, I received a phone call from Chris West. There was a GRAY-COLLARED BECARD near Portal! A first United States record for the species. I began to drive a little bit faster, and called up Tyler Loomis (who I later picked up) and Andrew Spencer, and we all began to move in on Portal. On the way down, we took a slight detour for the flock of 11 White-rumped Sandpipers, and then continued on. Unfortunately, we got there too late in the evening to see this incredible bird (and never did find it), but got Whiskered Screech-Owl, awesome looks at Whip-poor-will, Spotted Owl, and Great Horned Owl. The next morning, we woke up at 3:30 and drove over to Chriricahua National Monument, where we had an incredible bird. At 4:45, the previously reported Eared Quetzal began to call down canyon. One of less than twenty ever recorded in the United States, it was truly a remarkable thing to hear.

Now, off to catch up on sleep.

The Epic Saga of Southeastern Arizona, Part 1: The Santa Ritas

2009-06-01T08:55:00.000-07:00

Friday was the start of one of my favorite activities at work: the break. I woke up bright and early, and conducted my final transect for this period near Pittman Valley Road east of Williams, and began to pack my bags. A few days earlier, Chris West (swallowtailedkite.blogspot.com) and I hatched the master plan for the weekend: we would meet in Tucson, and then go see the Mexican rarities currently in South East Arizona. ALL OF THEM.

After meeting at the Sonoran Desert Museum in Tucson and dropping off my truck, we loaded into his little red Ford Taurus and began doing the five main things we did all weekend: Bird, Drive, Drink Root Beer, Eat Nutter Butters, and listen to Taylor Swift.

We arrived in Florida Wash, and began hiking up to the Rufous-capped Warbler location.We began shuffling up the drainage, listening to Black-throated Sparrows and Scott's Orioles on the slopes, and a Blue-gray Gnatcatcher calling in the underbrush. Soon, we neared the dam, and Chris and I began our search vigorously. We scoured the canyon up above the dam towards the last reported location, when something hopped out from under my foot. The bird was none other
than the RUFOUS-CAPPED WARBLER! (I apologize for technical difficulties, but please click the picture to see the entire bird in a new window.) It sat in a bush inches away as I called to Chris, trying not to scare the bird. "I've got it!" Chris glanced up, asking "Where?!" and finally realized how close it actually was. We followed the bird into the drainage nearby, where he was getting drinks from the stream and soon began to sing in the rushes, revealing it was the male. Just then, in response to the singing, his little lady friend came to see what was up. So there we were, minutes after starting our search, sitting five to ten feet away from TWO Rufous-capped Warblers. Our cameras firing off like the paparazzi, we got incredible looks at these birds coming in.

Unforunately though, the sun was setting fast. Chris, having seen his first life bird of the trip was elated. We began to hike out, when I heard a familiar song and glanced up the slope.

"Chris, BLACK-CAPPED GNATCATCHER."

Soon, we had decent looks at this, the rarest of the North American Gnatcatchers, and lifer number two for Chris. We glanced up at the setting sun, and hurried onwards towards Madera Canyon.

When we finally arrived there, the canyon was disturbingly quiet. Hardly anything was out and about, and we stood at the Kubo, hoping for someting to come out. And we didn't have to wait long. After a short wait, I spotted the male White-eared Hummingbird coming to the feeder. This was the second White-eared either of us had ever seen. As we watched this hummer, Chris suddenly piped up. "Hey, is that another White-eared?" I looked where he was pointing and, sure enough, a female White-eared Hummer had joined the masses at the feeders. By now though, the sun was setting, and fast. I looked around Madera as we began to organize for the push south. Next stop: Patagonia, the land of the Sinaloa Wren. As we left the canyon, Chris and I began talking about the Flame-colored Tanager that we had missed in the canyon, the bird that had been present for years at the same spot. "We'll see it," Chris said. "We have to come back by this way anyhow." I smiled, and wondered what other birds the weekend had in store...

To be continued in Part 2: Patagonia, Land of the Wren.

Arizona - A Quick Update

2009-05-27T18:06:00.000-07:00

As most of you know, I recently started my summer job with the Rocky Mountain Bird Observatory, and have been doing transects for them for several days now in the Kaibab National Forest of Northern Arizona. Hepatic Tanagers abound, and I even have had a couple Olive Warblers and even a Red-faced Warbler. I will post more in depth later, but for now, a parting shot of a Grace's Warbler from the Kaibab National Forest south of Williams, Arizona.

Williamson's Sapsucker

2009-05-11T14:01:00.000-07:00

Williamson's Sapsucker (Sphyrapicus thyroideus) is one of the most unique North American woodpeckers. When it was first discovered, it was believed to be two separate species as it is so sexually dimorphic. One species was described in which no female had ever been discovered, and another in which only females had been observed. This female Williamson's Sapsucker was photographed on the Telegraph Road in Mesa County on 9 May 2009. The male is almost entirely jet black. I figured a woodpecker this cool deserves its own post.

Lucy's Warbler in Mesa County!

2009-05-08T09:34:00.001-07:00

Today, I found a male Lucy's Warbler in Rabbit Valley about a mile from the Utah Border in Mesa County, Colorado. This warbler, the smallest of the wood warblers in North America and one of only two to nest in trees, is extremely rare and localized in Colorado, regularly occurring only in Yellowjacket Canyon in Montezuma County, Colorado, in the Southwest corner of the state. In addition to these and the one observed today, there are (to my knowledge) four records of this warbler in Colorado; the first being an adult male singing in downtown Grand Junction, Mesa County in May 1991, another being observed in Lamar, Prowers County, another in eastern Colorado (location?), and finally an adult male in Gateway, Mesa County in April of last year (found the 24, I saw this bird on the 27). The fact that three records have come from Mesa County, and that two of them have occured each of the past two springs suggests that this bird may be becoming more regular on the Dolores and Colorado Rivers near the Utah border. It will be interesting to see what the future brings.

Lucy's Warbler is distinguished from other Vermivora warblers by having a plain, grayish overall look with a chestnut/rusty rump and crown, and faint eyeline.

Gray May Day

2009-05-01T16:05:00.000-07:00

It has finally arrived! May - the month when the orioles arrive en force in western Colorado, the month when warblers begin to set up territories, and when all migrants have a possibility to show! Today, though, I went up to the Colorado National Monument briefly to see what was out and about. Upon arriving, House Finches were singing everywhere. An Ash-throated Flycatcher called from the hillside, a Black-chinned Hummingbird defended his flowerpatch, and a distant Black-throated Gray Warbler sang a single 'zee-chick.' As I walked up the trail, I managed to hear a Rock Wren up the slope, and the House Finches and Black-chinned Hummers continued to fly around and be extremely vocal. That was when I spotted my third vireo of the year - a lone male Gray Vireo that was sporadically singing and swooping between the Single-leaf Ash and Utah Juniper. Further up the trail, an Ash-throated Flycatcher drifted by, and a calling Gray Flycatched wagged its tail in a nearby juniper tree. Overall, it was a good day in the PJ Woodland. You can never go wrong by birding the desert.

Summer Tanager in Western Colorado!

2009-04-24T16:54:00.000-07:00

Today, my Ornithology class went out to Highline Lake State Park in Mesa County, Colorado to see what we could find. It was a fairly productive day, with Loggerhead Shrike at the east entrance, Western and Eared Grebes on the lake, and a Long-billed Dowitcher and my FOS Western Kingbirds on the west side. But, as we were leaving the park to head back to town, I spotted an odd, reddish bird flying along the fence. My professor stopped the car and began backing up after I informed him that I thought it was a Tanager, possibly a Summer. Just as I said that, one of the girls said "Is that it?" There on the branch was a Summer Tanager male molting into its first breeding plumage. The bird was amazingly cooperative, allowing amazing views for the group from not very far away (~8 feet). Unfortunately, we had to get back to school, but I managed to coax my dad into returning out there later in order to obtain a record shot. What an incredible bird! It is the first one I have ever seen in Colorado.

Sinaloa Wren

2009-04-15T13:07:00.000-07:00

Another Sinaloa Wren has just been confirmed from Southeastern Arizona. There is a video here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pn-NyQNQDaI

The Sinaloa Wren (Thryothorus sinaloa) is an endemic bird to Western Mexico and ranges northward to Sonora, just south of the American border. Previous Sinaloa Wren reports have not been accepted, but the birds presence in the United States has been debated and, by some, expected for many years. The first ABA record for this bird was found last year near Patagonia, Arizona, where it has resided since it was found on 25 August 2008. I was lucky enough to see the Patagonia bird on 2 January of this year, as it called and foraged among the trees at daybreak. This second bird has taken up residence at Fort Huachuca, a military base in the Huachuca Mountains near Sierra Vista. This is an entirely seperate bird and a first county record for Cochise County (the Patagonia bird is in Santa Cruz County). I cannot help but wonder whether or not Sinaloa Wrens will follow the same path as the Black-capped Gnatcatchers. The gnatcatchers, another West Mexican endemic, were first confirmed in the United States in the 1970's when a nest was found in Santa Cruz County, Arizona. Since that time, they have become more or less regular in the canyons of Southeastern Arizona and even in Guadelupe Canyon, in Southwestern New Mexico. Just this year alone, I have had well over a dozen Black-capped Gnatcatchers in Arizona in three of the canyons in the Santa Ritas, south of Tucson. Another bird expanding northward is the Rufous-capped Warbler (also in the Santa Ritas this year), and Eared Quetzals and Crescent-chested Warblers have begun showing up more north of their expected range. It seems to me that Arizona is undergoing a Mexican bird invasion, and I would not at all be surprised if more Sinaloa Wrens were reported by year's end.

And the quiz results: I know it wasn't up for long, but congratulations to David Bell and Andrew Spencer for correctly identifying the Clapper Rail (Rallus longirostris levipes) photographed south of San Diego, California in January 2009.

Photo Quiz #1

2009-04-14T15:07:00.001-07:00

OK, so seeing how Photo Quizzes are the hip new thing to post, I thought I would do one of my own. Time of year: Winter. Location: Mexican Border.
Please e-mail answers to black.hawk.birder@gmail.com with the subject line "Photo Quiz #1."

Fallout!

2009-04-04T13:56:00.000-07:00

These past few days have hosted some of the worst Spring weather I've ever seen in Western Colorado. Winds have been howling through the valley, and storm after storm has rolled through. Yesterday's rains were a record breaking amount, and last night's storm coated half of the mountains in snow down to the valley level. So, on this cold and windy morning I picked up Sean McKee for his first day of birding and ventured out to Highline Lake State Park. This is the best decision I have made in a long time.

Just pulling into the park, I spotted the first good bird of the day - a Long-billed Curlew! This was the first Western Colorado Curlew I had seen away from the western desert's breeding haunts of this species and made sure I got Sean on the bird as it flew east, never to be seen again. I smiled at our good fortune and went down to the mudflats to see if there were any good shorebirds out and about today. Unfortunately, the lake level had been raised about five feet, destroying all mudflats for the shorebirds. I shook my head, and looked around the lake. Two Osprey circled in the dark sky, and about three distant loons seemed to be prowling through the water. A flock of ducks flew over, and I had a suspicion that they were Redheads but didn't get a good view. A Eurasian Collared-Dove flew around a boat launch, and Sean noticed the loon out on the lake. Being his first time birding, he asked about it and I took a look through the binoculars to make sure. It was a loon, but behind the bird was a large raft of birds. I thought they were loons, but shook my head a little - loons don't travel in groups that big.

We loaded back into the truck and headed over to the far shore. There, we found the group of ducks I had seen before - 45 Redheads and 6 Bufflehead. I was surprised that my guess was right. In around the ducks were several Western Grebes, and a fairly cooperative Clark's Grebe. As I was pointing out the birds to Sean, four loons began to approach us very closely.

I managed to snap this decent Common Loon pic through my window. As we glanced out across the lake though, my suspicion was confirmed - the raft of birds was loons. So we drove up farther to try to determine how many loons there really were on the lake. we were distracted en route by a giant mass of swirling birds, at least 170 Sandhill Cranes. They drifted lazily through the thermal and shot northwest towards Idaho and Northern Utah. As they departed, Sean and I continued up the road to a pull out to count the loons. Up around the corner was yet another raft of these impressive birds. I quickly started counting, and came out at 87 loons just within sight at the moment. I quickly called Larry Arnold to ask him if a flock this big was significant, and sure enough, according to his records, the largest flock ever in Western Colorado was at the exact same spot almost twenty years ago and numbered a mere 47 individuals. Before I knew it, Larry was on his way out to see it for himself. While waiting for him, we then proceeded on to Mack Mesa Reservoir just above Highline. There, a Northern Harrier drifted over the marsh, two Common Mergansers hugged the shore, and about 8 Red-Breasted Mergansers sat in the middle of the lake. A Double-crested Cormorant flew in, and it wasn't long until we spotted two loons at this lake too. One bird was diving intermittently near the fishing pier and another bizarre bird was flying loops around the lake, giving a great opportunity to study a loon in flight. It wasn't long until we drove down to meet Larry near our loon overlook, and started counting the other birds there. The only other birds on the lake were about 8 Canada Geese and 23 Double-crested Cormorants. When we arrived at our rondezvous, a Clark's Grebe and some Western Grebe's were up close and personal between us and the Common Loon horde. Soon, Larry arrived and with him, the gulls. Four Ring-billed Gulls arrived out of the south, and they were very soon joined by two Franklin's Gulls. After showing Larry everything we had found, Sean and I decided to head out. As we were leaving, though, I spotted some more ducks flying in from the south, circling down and dropping into the lake. I grabbed my binoculars to see what the were. Lo and behold, more loons. At the time we left, we had counted 92 Common Loons on the lake. It was incredible.

After Highline, Sean and I headed out to Horsetheif to see what was out and about. Though we did not reapeat our amazing success from before, we had two Bald Eagles and two more Osprey. What happened at Highline was truly remarkable though, and goes to show that bad weather really does equal good birds in migration.

Another American Pipit

2009-03-26T15:59:00.000-07:00

Bored with my normal afterschool routine, I headed down to Connected Lakes State Park to bird around a little bit. The weather today has been stormy and not good for migrants, so I didn't expect anything. The heavy clouds and bursts of wind gave the walk an eerie mood. As I walked around, I decided to go to the confluence of the Colorado River and Redlands Canal to see if a late Barrow's Goldeneye or Canvasback was loafing around. When I got there after bushwhacking through some tamarisk, I was disappointed to find only Mallards. But then, as I took a step forward, I flushed a surprisingly silent American Pipit off the river bank.

Normally, a pipit is nothing to be excited about, but seeing that lone pipit made me realize something. This winter CBC, my friends and I rafted the river and had over 170 pipits (if my memory serves me right), over 30 of which were in one flock! So what happened to them? The rest of my winter in Colorado was generally pipit-less. I walked the river but never saw them flying around. I imagine as the winter progressed, they moved on south. At this time of year, I always assumed they'd be on their way to higher elevations and latitudes. As that pipit flew in a wide circle over the river this afternoon, I realized I had accomplished my goal for the day: finding a migrant. I was hoping for something coming up from the south, but today's storms are probably to blame for the pipit I saw and for keeping the new stuff south. I then realized that this pipit was probably the last low elevation pipit I'll see this year. That lone bird made me consider how dangerous it is to get too caught up in what's new, because you never know when you'll see your last of something mixed in.

Migrants Today

2009-03-24T14:29:00.001-07:00

Due to a statewide test being administered to underclassmen today, I had some free time and decided to go out to Highline Lake State Park in Northwestern Mesa County and fill in one of my saddest county bird gaps: Long-billed Dowitcher. Long-billed Dowitchers aren't uncommon where I live; in fact, they're regular and 'easy.' However, they have seemingly avoided me on every in-county birding venture I have ever done. So today I drove out to the lake to try for this 'elusive' and 'difficult' bird, and was rewarded when I flushed a pair getting out of my truck. In fact, they were the first birds I flushed all day. After seeing my quarry, I looked around the lake a little and saw a couple Gadwall, Eurasian Collared-Doves, and heard a Killdeer. However, a Canada Goose and far off swimming thing made me think that the other side of the lake would be worth a look.

A few minutes later, I was on the other side of the lake and shaking my head. It was definitely worth the drive over - my First of Spring Osprey was sitting in a snag, and a lone Sandhill Crane circled up from its nighttime roost. A dozen cormorants wandered around the lake, and there on the shore between me and the sun were several gulls. Gulls. And they were in horrible lighting. Even in these conditions, though, I could see that one or two of these birds looked different. So I hiked the quarter mile out, hiding behind bluffs and bushes on the way, to get a better look. It was well worth it. From my truck, I thought I saw two non-Ring-billed Gulls and Ring-billed Gulls. Getting closer, I found that all but one was a Ring-billed, but that one was a Herring Gull! This is only the second Herring Gull I have ever seen in Western Colorado, as they are rare and irregular. As the book "Birds of Western Colorado Mesa and Plateau Country" states, there is a 50/50 chance that a bird will even be recorded at all in any given year. Not bad. I wonder what else will show up this spring...
Two of the gulls from Highline Lake: Ring-billed in front, Herring in back.

CORRECTION: Due to much correspondence I have since had about this photograph, I am unsure whether this is a weird Herring Gull or California Gull. For the time being, I am leaving the ID as Larus species, due to mixed opinions I have heard. When I am certain of the ID, I will re-edit this post.

Stalking in a Good Way

2009-03-18T18:28:00.000-07:00

My Aunt called from down the street this evening to inform me that a Great Horned Owl had swooped into her yard and was checking out her cats (well, she didn't describe this exactly, but owls will be owls). I saw this as an opportunity to get a good picture, but upon stepping outside I realized that the lighting would be too terrible to get any pictures. But then, I spotted a new quarry. Lying about twenty feet away from me was a Mourning Dove, presumably preparing to roost. I have observed them doing this numerous times on my way out into the world in the early dawn as my headlights illuminate them, but saw this chance to photograph one. I got down low to the ground and began inching forward. At first, the bird just stared at me. So I took a picture, using the flash in the low light to better capture his image. Then, while he was dazed, I began inching forward. I repeated this method about three times until I was a mere 1.5 meters away. I then took one last picture of him attempting to sneak away, and then he thwarted my plans once and for all by taking wing and alighting on a power line above. At least I got some decent pics.

Louisiana Loitering

2009-03-12T09:15:00.000-07:00

For the past 5 days, my family and I have been traveling around Louisiana to look at Louisiana State University and whatever else we might come across. I managed to squeeze in some birding, and got a state list of 79 by the time we boarded the plane - not bad for not going birding. Louisiana is definitely an amazing state though-the endless bayous, swamps, and "upland" forests that resemble jungles more than anything else. We wandered around the swamps of St. Marin Parish in particular, given that we were staying near the Lafayette/Vermilion Parish boundary and it was between us and Baton Rouge. There we saw Alligators, Roseate Spoonbills, Anhingas by the dozen, and lots of Cajun folk. I managed to get a few gator pics from Lake Martin, including this brute loafing on a log:
Wandering around the rest of Southeastern Louisiana, we got to see a lot of other interesting things. Avery Island was incredible for the sole reason that you get free Tabasco for walking through the door! It is also the cheapest place to buy it by the gallon that I know of. We didn't have the cash to visit the rest of the island, so I was pleased to see a Louisiana Heron (now known as the Tricolored Heron) at the entrance to the park. Other places we visited included coastal St. Mary Parish, where the swamps abutted into the ocean with Boat-tailed Grackles and other birds flying through the picnic areas, and where my dad spotted the most photogenic Wilson's Snipes I have ever seen.
In all, we visited about a dozen parishes, the French Quarter of New Orleans (one of the most disturbing places I have ever been), made a small hop into Mississippi, and drove across the Lake Pontchartrain Causeway. That is most definitely the longest bridge I have ever been on. The scenery, college, and awesome birds make me want to go to college in Louisiana. That would amazing.

Oh, and Vermilion Parish was incredible birdwise - it is the only spot I have had Inca Dove, Blue-headed Vireo, both Kinglets, and Fishcrow in the same yard, at the same time (except for the Golden-crowned Kinglet, which stuck around just long enough to be one of my first state birds down there).

Delta County - February 28

2009-03-02T16:39:00.000-08:00

On Saturday, the 28, Andrew Spencer, Jason Beason, Otus Beason and I all traveled up the Grand Mesa to find crossbills near the Grand Mesa National Forest Visitor Center, Delta County. Andrew was the first to spot our quarry while driving down the road just a few hundred yards from the visitor center. We parked among the snowmobilers and ran after the calling birds. We soon caught up to a small group of "Type 5" Red Crossbills on the roadside, where Andrew realized he forgot his memory card to record their calls. I decided to test my new camera on the awesome finches before us. While watching the Reds and waiting for Jason, White-winged Crossbills began flying over, singing on the wing. Of course, as soon as Jason arrived, the finches had moved on, and needed a slight bit of chasing. So we trekked farther up the road, and though we never saw another White-winged Crossbill, we got to hear them very well. In all, we had about a dozen White-winged Crossbills, 30ish "Type 5" Red Crossbills, at least one "Type 4" Red Crossbill, and a few probable "Type 3" Red Crossbills. A successful day of crossbilling, if I may say so myself.

Later, we journeyed down the mountain to Fruitgrower's Reservoir, where we saw Pintail, Sandhill Crane and the usual winter ducks, and on to Confluence Park. There, we had great looks at a flock of Barrow's Goldeneyes in the Gunnison River, as well as Ross's and Snow Geese on the main lake. A bit of searching also produced a Cackling Goose among the Canadas.

On the way back to Junction, we managed to turn up two more good birds - a Prairie Merlin at Cheney Reservoir (Mesa County) and a Swamp Sparrow at Corn Lake State Park (Mesa County). Overall, an excellent way to say goodbye to the February Blues.