birdtalesblog

A snowstorm ushered in Philly’s first day of spring but it did not prevent USAIR from whisking me to McAllen, Texas in search of two “code 4’s”. You will recall that a code 4 is a mega-rarity…a once every ten year occurrence. Yesterday and this afternoon I looked, listened, cursed, and prayed (that is mandatory down here), but unfortunately missed the Gray-crowned Yellowthroat and Blue Bunting. It was some consolation that E-Bird, Cornell’s birding database, failed to receive any reports of these birds this weekend. Maybe they returned to their home country, a mere 20 miles south.

E-bird did report the presence of two Groove-billed Anis on Saturday at Laguna Atascosa National Wildlife Refuge. This bird has eluded me because it is primarily a summer resident in the Rio Grande Valley and its population has been in decline.

This morning I drove to the precise location indicated on the report and waited for sunrise. TWO Bobcats and the Cameron County Sheriff eyed me as I walked in circles around the Refuge entrance. After only an hour or so, I noticed a flock of red-winged blackbirds flee from a flooded field. Oddly, one remained behind. I took a casual look with my binoculars and was pleasantly surprised to focus on the unmistakeable Ani! I walked towards it and it flushed to a nearby bush. I approached with my I-phone camera and snapped one shot as it flew.

I thought I was done blogging after I saw my magic #700…an Aleutian Tern in Alaska last May. But I cannot resist sharing this with you, before you read about it in The New York Times.

Late yesterday afternoon I was dutifully at my computer reading and responding to e-mails, when my pulse quickened upon seeing the latest NARBA (refresher: North American Rare Bird Alert) post. Cape May, NJ had just reported a WHISKERED TERN! Common in Africa, this bird has been seen only twice before (1993 & 1998…I was living in Ohio and England those dates) in North America…both times at Cape May. It is so rare that neither my I-phone’s bird app nor the Sibley Bird Guide contain an entry for it.

Admittedly, I have been pretty content reveling in the satisfaction of last May’s trip to the Pribilofs, where I actually reached 702 North American lifetime birds. I had passed up several opportunities this summer to hop an airplane and try to see another “new one”. But this CODE 5 was almost in my backyard! I was off….but not until this morning. I took a calculated risk that this MEGA-rarity would hang around a few days like the two previous ones.

Within seconds of reaching the Cape May hawk watch platform, I spotted the bird, as well as several birders from my past; including the Cornell student I met two years ago in the Pacific Ocean (Half Moon Bay pelagic). He had taken a 3am bus from Ithaca to Bergen County and convinced his non-birding parents to drive the four hours to Cape May. I was pleased to show them the distant tern, acting like a swallow, catching insects off the surface of the pond. #703 is in the books…..#750 doesn’t seem that far away.

One is not likely to run into an Aleutian Tern (code 2) unless you are in the Aleutian Islands…..or at Headquarters Lake in the Kenai National Wildlife Refuge, 150 miles south of Anchorage. I received a tip that these maritime feeders had recently taken up residence on a small inland lake; a presumed lay-up! Since I had a free day before my Pribilof Islands adventure, I drove down the scenic Kenai Hiway, filled with optimism.

Upon arriving at the tiny observation platform, I was more than disappointed to see a huge lake void of avians. Where were the terns? In the distance I could see birds flying over what turned out to be a floating bog-island, but the smoke from a growing wildfire was beginning to erase the blue sky and cast a large shadow.

I hustled back to Headquarters and convinced a very friendly refuge field person (Toby) to bring his 60x magnification scope to the viewing area. We were able to positively identify a couple of Aleutian Terns but what about photos? I couldn’t write this blog without proof of #700! Toby discouraged any thoughts about using a yet-to-be located form of water transport (1. it was illegal for visitors and 2. the lake was off-limits for even Refuge personnel, as it needed to be a clear landing area for the increasing number of firefighting seaplanes) and headed back towards his office.

As I paced the shore wishing for an impossible Aleutian Tern fly-by, I noticed an upside down canoe in an enclosure. I hesitated, but quickly made the right decision for me and somehow scaled the ten foot fence without busting my optic equipment or my leg. The canoe’s midriff contained two paddles and a life preserver! At least I would appear legal in someone’s eyes if I was run over by a seaplane or swamped by the heretofore unnoticed lake swells. Within thirty minutes I was positioned next to the floating bog-island and I clicked away hoping to catch a decent shot. Note: the white forehead is the key, distinguishing field mark. And yes, those two birds are “pairing up”.

Thank YOU all for your interest and encouragement! Writing this blog has been gratifying and enjoyable. Of course, I won’t stop birding just because I’ve reached 700. There is a code 3 Tundra Bean-Goose on the Pribilofs right now! How does a round number of 750 sound?

699 1/2…What does that mean? The short version is: I heard the Black Rail…. but never saw it. The longer version follows.

Nailing the Mountain Quail (#699) early Saturday morning meant that I had two days and nights to devote to the pursuit of #700 before my Monday flight. At that moment, the BLACK RAIL was the only bird within an eight hour drive of San Francisco that was missing from my life list. (There is a rare Red-billed Tropicbird flying around the ocean off San Diego…too far). Black Rail is a most worthy candidate for owning the coveted #700 spot because this mysterious six inch, super-secretive marsh bird is generally recognized to be one of, if not the, MOST DIFFICULT BIRD TO SEE in the wild. It rarely flies, as it prefers to creep around the pickle weed like a mouse. It does vocalize but almost exclusively at night. Of course, besides just wanting to see this bird for myself, I also felt added pressure to take a recognizable photograph to satisfy you readers and cap off this wonderful blogging experience. (Note: Apologies to my SF friends for not checking in, but my OCD-ness was in overdrive and disabled the emotional side of my brain).

The bird breeds in the Corte Madera marshes within view of San Quentin prison…no, I won’t add “jail-bird” to my list. Daylight birding produced some interesting sightings like White-tailed Kite, Marbled Godwit, American Avocet and a Manta Ray that rode the swift incoming tide a bit too long! But not a hint of any rail, not even the common Clapper Rail. Nocturnal birding is more productive when binoculars are supplemented with a high-powered light and taped calls of the Black Rail. Add the fact that the weather was calm and the full moon produced a very high tide pushing the birds into a tighter space, my chances were perfect. Well, in fact, I heard several Black Rails calling over the course of many hours both Saturday and Sunday nights. At times they sounded like they were right in front of me. The noise they make is like no other rail or bird. “Kic-kee-doo” repeated over and over is imprinted on my brain and may bother me for a very long time! The males have clearly perfected a strategy of avoiding predators (herons, hawks, bobcats, birders?) while simultaneously calling attention to themselves for mating purposes.

I am 100% confident there were no other birders in the field duplicating my efforts….so Black Rails were indeed present. But I never saw one and thus remain at 699…..or is it 699 1/2 ???

 

I am often asked, “Can you count a bird if you only hear it?”. Technically, the answer is yes but my answer has always been “NO”. Birders will debate the pros and cons…but for me it is really clear – seeing is believing. The Mountain Quail is one of those birds that is heard sometimes but seen infrequently. I have attempted to locate this secretive western quail several times but to no avail…..until today.

Accompanied by an experienced guide (Rich Cimino), we traveled 80 miles north of San Francisco to prime Mountain Quail habitat. A steep canyon at 2,000 feet elevation, lined with a mixture of oaks and conifers interspersed around chaparral grasses, presents the perfect spot to hear a male Mountain Quail call from his customary sentry position – a rocky outcrop or tree snag. Within seconds of Rich’s order to stop the car, we could hear the unmistakable “quee-ark” crowing call quite easily. But where was the bird? Thirty minutes elapsed and we still had not located the persistently calling quail. Desperate to SEE this guy, I began climbing up the hillside on all fours…much to Rich’s amusement. Of course, by the time I had reached its presumed location, the calling came from an entirely different direction. So frustrating! 

Probably holding back laughter, Rich politely suggested driving up the canyon. Sometimes these elusive creatures will forage along the shady side of the road. Admittedly, I thought we had missed our chance of actually seeing #699. I started driving up the very windy road, my mind still on the hillside envisioning what should have been. Suddenly, a dark hen-like figure flashed in front of me and darted around the corner. If Rich hadn’t put the car in park after my quick exit….well, I don’t want to contemplate the consequences. Anyhow, I hoped for the best and in seconds was rewarded. #699! 

The Susquehanna River has been hosting several rare Little Gulls (code 3) this winter but I’ll admit, I am not super confident in my gull identifications. Besides, the Susquehanna isn’t exactly a creek! The fact that thousands of other similar looking gulls (specifically, Bonaparte’s Gulls), are frequenting the same stretch of the river near Lancaster, had discouraged me from even trying to locate our smallest North American gull the past two months.

However, three consecutive daily RBA (rare bird alert) texts informing birders of a Little Gull localizing between the bridges in Wrightstown, motivated me to try this afternoon.
I banked some credit this morning and vacuumed and mopped all of the floors around the myriad of boxes cluttering our 5-day new residence in Manayunk…..before suggesting a journey to the Susquehanna River. It worked!

As soon as I reached the John Wright restaurant parking area on the shore between the two bridges, I set up my new Swarovski scope within speaking distance of a young fellow intently staring through a much more impressive optic set-up than mine. I spent ten minutes scanning the vast river, trying to find the one white bird with a black underwing. Nothing. I was experiencing a competitive birder’s dilemma. Keep searching on my own….or ask the guy next to me for help. I chose the latter.

“Sure, I’m on it now, straight out about half a mile”, he stated matter-of-factly. I thanked him and fumbled for my camera which was twisted around my binoculars – both dangling and clanging against my tripod. The bird floated downstream with hundreds of its identical cousins until a certain point whereby it flew back in the reverse direction. Its rounded gray wings, edged in white, contrasted brightly with the opposite black underwing. There was no doubt…#698!

The only location in North America that one has a decent chance of hearing and hopefully seeing the fierce Ferruginous Pygmy-Owl, a diminutive (6″), diurnal hunter of small mammals and even larger southern invertebrates, is on the privately owned King Ranch at the bottom of Texas. The ranch is physically larger than Rhode Island and despite the fact that naturalists have staked out several nesting areas, success is never guaranteed.

The weather was not flight-friendly Friday night and I missed the last connection to my destination – Harlingen. I landed in Houston at 9:45pm with decisions to make. I absolutely had to be at the Norias Division gates at 6am Saturday or I would miss the special van tour I had reserved months ago. Renting a car and driving 300 miles was looking like my best option until a quick-minded United agent reserved the penultimate seat on a (thankfully) delayed 10:30pm flight to Brownsville. Brownsville is south of Harlingen and a two hour drive to my meeting spot; but at least I would have a chance to search for my “Nemesis” bird.

Of course, this revised itinerary assumed I could rent a car in Brownsville. My recently elevated status to “Hertz Gold” ensured the presence of a rental agent upon my post-closing hour arrival. However, neither Hertz nor its competitors had a single vehicle available to rent! While one side of my brain was rationalizing the expense of a two hour taxi ride, my emotional half took over and blurted out: “I am a professional wildlife photographer and I’ll lose my contract with the King Ranch if I fail to show up”. The sympathetic agent eyed the two carry-on bags weighing me down and promptly released a vehicle from the VIP secret stash.

I have REALLY wanted to see this incredibly difficult to find little owl since the early 1990’s. Many trips to Arizona and Texas produced scores of great birds and memories…but this elusive, dynamo stood out as the only North American owl missing from my life-list. UNTIL YESTERDAY…#697!!!

While in Florida last weekend, the National rare bird alert texts were flooding my I-phone. New Jersey’s first EVER Eurasian Tree Sparrow was frequenting a feeder in Cape May. 57 people had reported it by noon on Sunday! Admittedly, this bird was never on my “need to have” list. It was introduced to St. Louis, Missouri in 1870 from Europe and has pretty much stayed as a local specialty THERE. It looks very much like our typical House Sparrow (“LBJ”- Little Brown Job) but with a rusty brown cap as the distinguishing feature v. the abundant House Sparrow’s gray cap. Somebody was really paying attention to pick out this little fellow.

A business trip to Boston on Monday and Tuesday kept me 500 miles away from Lifer #696. On Wednesday I (finally!) closed on our new chic urban townhouse in Manayunk. So yesterday…Thursday, with a mind more focused on this weekend’s adventure to the King Ranch in Texas, I took off for Cape May before dawn – despite the fact that NO REPORTS of our Midwestern visitor had been posted on the Listserv since Monday evening.

I arrived at Cape May Point at 7am, expecting to see throngs of birders. I was alone. “Am I the only birding adult benefiting from spring break”, I wondered out loud. Maybe the birding authorities already pronounced this wayward sparrow as an escaped exotic…but failed to inform me. More likely, anyone that cared had already seen this very cooperative bird. I drove slowly down Harvard Ave. in search of number 113. For Sale, For Rent, pretty barren bird-wise until I saw one yard decorated with hanging, stocked feeders. It took me no more than twenty seconds to pick out this surprisingly beautiful avian from the crowd of starlings, mourning doves and house sparrows.

While many are debating over who will make the NCAA Final Four hoops Tourney….I have placed a wager on MY FINAL FOUR. Tip-off is tomorrow morning in Harlingen.

I was in Florida last weekend with a chance to see FOUR new birds. Unfortunately, three of them did not cooperate. The White-cheeked Pintail was NOT in the pond near Vero in America’s first National Wildlife Refuge. The Black Rail was NOT calling in the “can’t miss” marsh at 4am on either day…despite reports that someone saw it the day before and after I was there! And the Budgerigar was NOT at the feeder where a Norwegian vacationer had literally photographed it ten minutes before I arrived. However, the White-winged Parakeets WERE in the date palm trees near Miami’s airport, making up for the fact that I missed them in that exact spot last November.

The White-winged Parakeet is a native of South America but introduced to California and Florida in the 1960’s, where feral populations became established from released and escaped birds. Hey, the birding authorities count it…so I am, too. #695!