I Want To Be Your Shirt, So I Can Hug You While You Work

A male Bufflehead. Note the spirit-trapping iridescence that enshrouds his massive head.



A male Greater Scaup. The brown on his flanks points to the fact that he's not that old. I like the large water droplet suspended mid-air.



Here's an older bird for comparison. Check out the round dome....one of the ways to tell Lesser and Greater apart.



A male Lesser Scaup ponders his existence. It must be descaupinizing, being the lesser of two scaups.

Urban birding. What to say about it? Some places, that's all we can really do while staying close to home. Some places have incredible potential, and support large numbers of birds certain times of the year (i.e. New York's Central Park, Orange County's Bolsa Chica Ecological Preserve), but some, not so much. Which, at least for me, is pretty depressing, considering what used to lie under all that pavement.

In the bay area we are lucky to have Lake Merritt in Oakland, where waterfowl are not persecuted for being tasty and therefore don't really mind people more than people mind people. Cassowary, Lizard, The Grebe and I also came across a male Tufted Duck and a Red-necked Grebe while we were there for a couple hours last week....I definitely recommend checking it out if you're around in the winter.



A lot of people diss Canada Geese, but I don't mind them. You can poo in my parks any day, Canada Geese.



Just thought I would spice things up with a flycatcher. Hello Black Phoebe.

"Like The Salmon Of Capistrano"

Big years...they're pretty popular, for all manner of reasons. The idea is simple; try to see as many different species as possible within one year in a given area. This can be anything from your favorite local spot to anywhere in the world. The current U.S. record is something like 745 species, which is a crippling number....I haven't seen that many birds period, let alone in one year (yes, obviously I need to get to the tropics, but that's another matter).

There are downfalls to the big year of course. For one, you run the risk of becoming a full-blown lister, out to look at birds simply so you can check them off a list...this is the dark and incredibly stupid side of birdwatching, and one which many of us struggle to stay away from. It sucks a lot of the joy out of it, and those of us who can still manage to derive substantial pleasure from seeing a species we've seen thousands of times openly mock these people.



Then there are the real, tangible effects of the big year. For one, they're expensive as hell and extremely time consuming if you are really pursuing it. It costs $$$$$ to drive and fly all the time....it is not the poor man's pastime. Then there is the fact that when you are traipsing across the land during every free minute you have, you are burning huge amounts of gas and probably consuming a lot of shit that you wouldn't otherwise. Big years, more often than not, have substantial negative impacts, and in my opinion if you attempt one on a very big scale you're pretty much an asshole. I mean, it's great to keep track of everything, and the pursuit of the big year can land you in some strange and wonderful places, but there are limits of reason. One well-known birder drove 50,000 miles in one year for a California big year a while back...come on!



Some birders are catching on however. For example, in a big year done by Malkholm Boothroyd (apperently that's his real name, and he is in high school) and his family from June 2007-June 2008, they rode over 13,000 miles by bicycle, found 548 species, and raised a fat $25,000 for bird conservation. Inspiring stuff, yeah?

It wouldnt really be reasonable to suggest that people should never drive or fly, but it is to suggest they do it a lot less. I mean, I've done a few big years myself, and they're obviously pretty fun, and it's not like I don't travel. But there is such a thing as moderation, you know what I'm saying?

In the interest of appreciating your local species, I dedicate this blog to the almighty Anna's Hummingbird, who has been with me ever since childhood, seeming perpetually cheerfully perched and singing raspily atop the antenna at my parent's house. I also would like to thank one Brendan Wolff for providing the title. Yes, he was being serious.

If You Stay Single, You Walk To Your Grave

One of the billions of avian supporters of BB&B, a Royal Tern glides by Florida's Ft. Clinch State Park.

The great ornithologist, Felonious Jive, once told me "If you build it, they will come". Sage advice, from one of the sagest sages to ever walk through the sagebrush in search of Sage Grouse, all the while being serenaded by Sage Thrashers. And so, with my own blood, sweat and tears, I built this blog up to be the towering monument to whatever birders the world over have birded and died for over all these years. Most of us who have been in the game a while know at least one person who has perished in the line of duty...for these people, I continue to do it for The Cause.

Of course, most people don't yet know the magnitude of BB&B. Like most suffering artists/writers/musicians/creators of good good things, my work probably won't be recognized for the greatness that it is until after I'm dead.....so I guess I better get to work, eh? It's a well-known fact that some of the most revered rockstars to walk/rock the planet died at the ripe old age of 27, which is the age I find myself presently mired in. But if this calculated, clearly well-thought-out plan doesn't work out, I'm destined to compete with the more popular birding blogs out there. And I'm just talking about the American market here...I can't even begin to think about going up with the mega-blogs that the British twitchers must have. But as a certain posicore band put it....today the scene, tomorrow the world!

The competition is stiff. There are a lot of blogs that have the backing of the birding establishment, of which I generally hover around but rarely dip into these days. These blogs get hundreds or thousands of hits a day, are littered with amazing pictures, and are sponsored by various organizations, including the wealthy and powerful optics mafia. The people who run them even know what the hell they are doing with a website.

What does BB&B offer? Well...aside from my sharp tongue and biting wit...its hard to say. I have no idea what I'm doing with a website (posting a link is the extent of webbilities), I try to write so both birders and nonbirders could both potentially derive some enjoyment (minus many, many points from birdwatchers), my camera equipment is antiquated, my knowledge of cameras is on par with my knowledge of Pterodroma identification (I know one when I see one), I swear (shit), and lately, I don't even go birding very often. So that firmly cements me in an atavistic underdog role among the birding blogs. Fortunately, my close relationship with one Felonious Jive may be my salvation....widely regarded as the most powerful birder this side of the Mississippi, his powers should never be underestimated.



Laughing Gulls are hard to come by in a lot of the country, so soak it in people. From Florida's Ft. Clinch State Park.

"Don't be too proud of this technological terror you've constructed," he has told me. It's good advice. I must bird onward and upward.....but with much modesty. After all, BB&B won't be able to conquer the blogosphere alone.....we need YOU.

The last thing working against me(!) is the fact that most birdwatchers lack the sensibility to know that this is all tongue-in-cheek and almost everything I write is heavily laden with sarcasm. We're all on the same team here...most of the time.

Get out, get out, get out and get away

Owls. Let's just come out and say it.....they're pretty trendy right now. The hipsters are loving the owls....it's like the new wolf. If you were unaware of that fact, or are wondering what exactly a "hipster" is, just know that this has its ups and downs. I mean, any positive publicity for our big-eyed friends is a good thing, right? However, certain birdwatching people who are dimly aware of culture outside the realm of birdwatching are pained by this fact. I mean, let's face it....I've been way into owls way longer than you have. I was doing Spotted Owl surveys in highschool, for god's sake.

It's pretty much the same problem music nerds have from time to time....for example, old diehard fans of Against Me! wept only when they signed to a major label. Many simply cast the band by the wayside. Part of this was born out of a fear that the band would subsequently abandon some of their ethics and musical stylings (which turned out to be true down the road), but most of it was due to the fact that the bad wouldnt be their little secret anymore, it would be for the masses. Common people's music...which admittedly, is pretty awful.



But I digress. We're talking about owls, not the pitfalls of punk rock. Anyhow, owls are problematic for me. Not in that they are especially hard to identify, its just that they are so damn hard to find at all. At least for me. Several species I have heard but not seen (which is incredibly aggravating), and my owl list is just not too impressive. I've never been around for the Snowy Owls that have showed up in California the last few years (which is extremely, extremely aggravating), nor have I seen any of the other facemelting northern owls (Northern Hawk, Great Gray, Boreal).
At any rate, I am excited about opportunities this spring and summer to see some new ones, in Arizona and beyond...

Best owl story that comes to mind: We were camping (er, trespassing) in a wash south of Patagonia, Arizona during last July's Monsoon Reun(ion). I was drinking copious amounts of Gentleman Jack, when late at night we were engulfed by Elf Owls calling all around us. Steadfastly, I staggered up the road with handle of Gentleman in one hand and maglite in the other. For no reason at all, I managed to actually find one next to the road within a couple minutes, where it cooperatively sat and offered itself as a life bird to the other folks present. Accolades were heaped upon me, and things have not been the same ever since.

Right. Have a good day, I'm going to go up my field-nerd status by buying some double-kneed Carhartts.

I've Driven Across Deserts, Driven By The Irony

One of the most frequent questions I get from nonbirders is the classic "What's your favorite bird?". I get it annoyingly often, but its pretty relevant I suppose. I usually just point to the frigatebird tattooed on my leg and give a quick, vague description of what they're all about. A lot of people have actually seen them, since they are usually soaring overhead at beaches and islands in tropical places around the world. But since I've done this too many times, I am not going to divulge more than that. My colleague recently directed me towards this a piece of poetry that can sum it up far better than I, an excerpt of which is below:

Thou born to match the gale, (thou art all wings,)
To cope with heaven and earth and sea and hurricane,
Thou ship of air that never furl'st thy sails,
Days, even weeks untired and onward, through spaces, realms gyrating,
At dusk that lookist on Senegal, at morn America,
That sport'st amid the lightning-flash and thunder-cloud,
In them, in thy experiences, had'st thou my soul,
What joys! what joys were thine!

- From Walt Whitman's "To the man-of-war bird"


Substantially worse than having to answer this question all the time is the fact that people who may know a few birds think its a cormorant. As a birder....I find this mildly offensive. I mean, yeah they're the same color and I guess superficially they have a similar bill structure.....but a cormorant tattoo would be fucking weird man. Maybe someone could pull off a Red-faced Cormorant, or some sort of exotic shag (yeah, I just said "some sort of exotic shag", deal with it). But really. Cormorants arent waterproof, are not graceful, can't soar, make terrible noises, carry a lot of parasites, smell bad, etc. I suppose they do have the iconic Christ-on-the-cross pose when they are drying their wings.....but Anhingas do it better.

Below is a strange, yet hilarious video of a Great Frigatebird from Nihoa in the Northwestern Hawaiian Islands. I don't necessarily condone this, and I'm pretty sure its illegal, but I have to admit I might be tempted to try it out myself....it doesn't seem like the bird particularly cared. The birds nesting on Midway are often pretty friendly, but they don't let you get this close....thanks to whoever conducted this "scientific experiment"...I think.

"Look. There's a rhythmic ceremonial ritual coming up."

A Palm Warbler takes in the sun on Georgia's bird-filled Jekyll Island.

Doom. That's a word you here tossed around a lot these days, in all manner of places. Environmentalists know that this is what we are all in for if climate change continues unchecked. Haiti is in the thick of it right now. The Christian Right seems to think that any behavior not specifically sanctioned in their little book will doom all of mankind. People are even whispering about it quiet Humboldt County, which recently experienced a pretty big earthquake, although (thankfully) not as much now since the malaise in Haiti set in. All in all, it seems to be a grim situation.

Fortunately, my personal levels of foreboding are not up to a global scale...I am mainly obsessing over the facts that EDD has still not sent me an unemployment check (I started this whole process over a month ago...take warning) and that it is supposed to rain steadily for the next week. So basically, I am doomed to stay indoors and wait for the mail....it could be worse, but it could be far better.



A Long-billed Dowitcher gets wet at the Salton Sea.

Thankfully, I can occupy myself with applying for summer jobs, of which many are available. I am shooting high (Alaska), but I'm sure wherever I end up will be interesting. I'm really looking forward to living in Arizona for a bit and (gasp) starting work again....unemployment can get tiresome when (A) your friends have full time jobs and (B) you don't feel like spending money like there's no tomorrow.....because despite what the fear-mongers say, there will be a tomorrow....for good or ill.

Besides, life is just better when you can find Black-capped Gnatcatchers in your driveway, am I right? Of course I am.



American White Pelicans don't seem to get enough credit for being completely awesome.

And It Seems So Cruel

With images of total catastrophe and devastation riding the airwaves, its hard to concentrate on trivial things like the habits of birdwatchers....don't get me wrong, I prefer the company of birds to most people, but it's kind of hard to joke about today.

Of course I'm talking about Haiti, largely regarded as one of the worst places in the world. Most of its residents live on less than a dollar a day. To say that its people live in poverty is an understatement. It has been in a violent, war-torn state for over 30 years now, although 2009 wasn't a bad year in comparison. It is a place already prone to environmental disasters due to deforestation. The New York Times put together a good synopsis of it, which can be viewed here.

When the January 12 earthquake hit, most of the capital city was brought to the ground (with almost no government oversight, there are not exactly strict building codes in place). The current deathtoll is thought to be somewhere around 50,000 people. 150 U.N. workers are still thought to be trapped under the rubble. For obvious reasons, the situation there is dire.

For those intent on praying for the victims, I would venture to say that it doesn't hurt, but realistically it accomplishes nothing...its not like God thought, "Hmm, I think today I am going to send tens of thousands of people to a terrible death" and then change his mind about the whole thing.

What you can do is make a donation to relief groups who are already on the ground. A quick, easy way to make a small donation ($10) is to text "Haiti" to 90999. This goes to directly to Red Cross (all of it), and there are no associated fees. This charge will show up on your next phone bill. They will send a confirmation message back to you, and you just have to say "YES" and its all taken care of. Simple!

Me Looking At You, Or You Looking At Me?

I seem to have stumbled upon a kind of Sandhill Crane "Tree Of Life", which is odd, because they normally have nothing to do with trees.

Hi there bird junkies. You can't get enough, can you? That's why you keep coming back. Today's bird of choice is the Sandhill Crane, a species that has captured the eyes, ears and hearts of many a bird junkie. I would characterize Sandhills as being a kind of "downer" bird, in that they may cause a soothing effect and a mild euphoria when viewed in moderate to large numbers, particularly at sunset, sunrise, or if a high percentage happen to be vocalizing at the time.



It is the only widespread crane in the United States, occurring from coast to coast and from Canada to Mexico, with the bulk of the population being found in the interior states. Some individuals, particularly in places like Florida, are quite abiding and don't mind hanging out with people, but I haven't been fortunate to meet any of those birds. The fact that you can hunt them in some states doesn't make it any easier to get very close to them. All of these pictures were taken last November at Bosque Del Apache National Wildlife Refuge, in central New Mexico.



Whooping Cranes, the only other North American cranes, and white with black wingtips and are considerably larger than Sandhills. They are highly endangered (at one point last century there were only a few dozen), but can still be found in a couple places. I highly recommend looking at them in person....personally speaking, I found that viewing them caused a tidal wave of endorphins to be released. Aransas National Wildlife Refuge in Texas is the best place to do this.



Whether the Whooping Cranes are around or not, anyplace with Sandhills is blessed. Now go forth, and imbibe.

Of Native Ways And Beaten Slaves

This is where I'll be living this spring: the base of the Santa Rita Mountains in southeastern Arizona.

Well hellllllllllooooooooooooooo there Arizona, how have you been? I haven't been in your strange, McCain-worshipping, immigrant-hating, water-chugging, Andrew Jackson Jihad-birthing, biologically diverse, bird-filled, and generally incredible state since November, but I am ready to come back. Southeastern Arizona is an absolutely crippling place to see birds, as many have written about over the years. It is a birding mecca, and I am happy to say that I will be making a pilgrimage back in the end of February. I am, in the end, doing what I think is best. I'll be gone before the summer monsoons come, but I guess I'm ok with that.

Of course, now I am left with the (possibly) daunting task of finding a summer job, but now my primary task this month is to go out and see as many shows possible before I do my post-breeding-dispersal thing....since I returned from the far east, I managed to catch NOFX, Andrew Jackson Jihad and King City so far, and that's just the beginning. I gotta get my good music in before the field season arrives.

And now, for those of you with parched brains, thirsty for some esoteric knowledge, here are a couple pages worth catching up on:

For you gadget/tech nerds, you should probably go here.

For all the dolphin psychologists out there.....so long, and thanks for all the fish.

According to NOAA, the commercial tuna industry is responsible for killing about 6 million dolphins since the late 1950's, and kills approximately a thousand a year currently. Next time you order a tuna melt, ponder the fact that you are basically supporting whaling. Yum!



The Santa Ritas are a pretty different experience from where I was last spring: this is Eastern Island, in Midway Atoll.

To Kill The Sleeping Cop In Me

One of the newly completed areas at Salvation Mountain.

Well it's been a turbulent start to Y2K10 here at BB&B, but turbulence happens right? And like most occurrences, it's usually pretty brief and not something we bank in our long-term memories....why dwell on the bullshit, right? Right.

A lot of birders are getting all uppity and bragging about how many species they've already seen in this Foul Year Of Our Lord, Two Thousand Ten. Which is fine. That's what they do. That's what I used to do. It's in our nature. It's all part of our subcultural zeitgeist, part of what makes us the nerds that we are.



I didn't mean for this shot to come out so dark (that's the sun, not the moon), but I kinda like it.

Which is neither here nor there....and possibly not anywhere relevant. When working on this thing I often require coffee, which in turn (tern?) makes it extremely difficult to concentrate on any one topic for very long. For example, the topic on the tip of my proverbial tongue right now is fallen soldiers. No, not the heroic/unlucky/stupid (depending on your point of view) people who have died for their god and country, but cans and bottles of beer that were opened and had a couple of sips taken.....then left by the wayside. But these fallen soldiers are neither gone nor forgotten....they serve as reminders (the next morning) of A) how wasteful people are, and in the case of a certain German roommate, B) what terrible drinkers people can be.

Indeed.....very much so. I guess this is what you're stuck with....random screeds written by a highly-caffeinated half-asian man. Maybe I should go birding or something, eh? That always seems to make life a little more livable.

Speaking of which, for those of you in the bay area (Fay Area), there are a lot of good shows coming up in January. Andrew Jackson Jihad, Strung Out, The Ian Fays, Devil Makes Three and Strike Anywhere are all playing in the city this month...which sounds good to me. Ha!



A female Common Ground-Dove, wallowing in her scaly goodness.



Sometimes living a life in the dust doesn't seem like a bad idea.

Finally, barring catastrophe, apocalypse, and The Second Coming Of Zombie Christ, it looks like I will be moving down to Arizona at the end of February for some serious point-counting. I will give more details in the near future.....with this in mind, I think I can level my warrior to enjoy funemployment to the maximum. Sick.



A cloud of Snow and Ross' Geese whirls over an alfalfa field at Salton Sea NWR.

Pissing On The Fire

The Salton Sea is one of the strangest places in the United States....in terms of socially, visually, and birdily. Although it lies in an ancient lake bed, it was created (by accident) and is now "maintained" by people. It's the largest lake in California, and is considerably bigger than Lake Tahoe....it enjoyed a lot of popularity some decades ago with the Hollywood crowd, but has since been abandoned from the public consciousness.



Somewhere in the desert, there are Abert's Towhees getting incredible kicks from things you couldn't possibly imagine.



Double-crested Cormorants are one of the commonest birds at the sea.

Because the Salton Sea lies in a naturally very salty area and is primarily fed by agricultural runoff, it actually becomes 1% saltier every year, or some similar figure. It is now considerably saltier than the Pacific Ocean, and now has an extremely simplified ecosystem (aside from its birdlife)....some invertebrates, a bunch of Tilapia (and maybe a few hanger-ons of other species), and a huge diversity of birds. It has been the site of massive die-offs of fish and birds, and it's not well known how much longer it's ecosystem will be able to persist in it's present state. It's an austere place, but it's history of bringing in facemelting megavagrants (I've seen four (4) species of longspur, Rufous-backed Robin, Roseate Spoonbills, Ruff, Sprague's Pipits, Painted Redstart, etc. in the Imperial Valley) will leave many a birder broken-hearted if it deteriorates much more. Granted, some of these rarities weren't found at the sea itself....but when you consider the fact that it's used by millions of birds every year, you tend to forget about the other stuff.....



Burrowing Owls can keep it on the down low when they want to.

Slab City ("The Last Free Place On Earth") and Salvation Mountain were both very popular with some of us on the Burrowing Owl crews when I lived down there, and I was happy to get back to see Leonard Knight and his mountain. Leonard is still well for those of you wondering, and was actually relieved to find out that I'd been there before. "It's that Google Earth", he explained, "because of that thing, I get about 200 people a day now. There's already been over 200 today."

He looked down at his feet, kicked the dust, took a deep breath, and shuffled determinedly toward the nearest tourist. "Hello there! Welcome!".

If you've never eaten at Christine's in Brawley, seen Calipatria's flagpoll, inhaled the fumes at Red Hill, or drnk too much at Slab City's talent show, you must. I'll see you there.



The great ornithologist Felonious Jive contemplates astrophysics in front of Salvation Mountain.