Nobody Likes A Cynic

Marbled Godwits leave their high tide roost to go kill some invertebrates. Mudflat-dwellers beware. Arcata, CA.

Good day to you birder, and welcome to another fantastic, hubris-filled edition of Bourbon, Bastards and Birds. I know you must be frothing at the mouth to hear what I have to say....the proverbial Good Word, if you will.

Well...although I am, without doubt, a Leading Light in the birding community...I'm a bit too caffeinated (on shade-grown coffee, of course) to think straight. So here is a hodgepodge of pictures, with a few nonbirds for a change. Cool.

A Yellow-rumped and a Palm Warbler. Conveniently, the sign explains where this is...too bad those birds aren't always conveniently perched there.

While I was studying gulls, this man was slow-jogging backwards. What is weirder? I do not recommend this mode of transportation at any time, for any reason. Lake Merced, CA.

Common Raven. Not much to say. I dig this picture though. San Francisco, CA.

Pacific Chorus Frogberry. Arcata, CA.

Common Loon, crabcrusher. Unlike weakling sea otters, loons do not require rocks to smash their prey into oblivion.

A swarm of birders descend upon Lake Merced in search of a Louisiana Waterthrush. I particularly enjoyed the circle of loud, gossiping birders that drowned out all sound anywhere near them. That is the most efficient way to attract rare birds.

Female Northern Shoveler. She is a master of water-filtration. Fremont, CA.

Vagrants Become You

Tropical Kingbird. Manila (Humboldt County). Naked eye identification while going 55 mph. The bird wasn't even on the same street. That's why they call me "Number 7".

Unlike last fall, I have not decided to boycott birdwatching this year. This strategy has failed in getting any life birds (the one-day-wonder San Francisco Northern Wheater would have been one), and has succeeded in burning lots of money and gasoline. But most importantly (for me), I've actually been seeing a lot of good birds. Tufted Duck, Sharp-tailed Sandpiper, Red-throated Pipit, Cape May Warbler, Chestnut-sided Warbler, Red-throated Pipit, Clay-colored, Swamp and White-throated Sparrows, and Lapland Longspur are a few not pictured today. Just remembering them gives me the warm fuzzies.

"Good birds", in birder parlance, just means rare birds. Due to their obvious rarity, it's bloody hard to get pictures of rare birds, and so I find the most fitting shots of rare birds are the worst possible pictures (see Lucy's Warbler below). It's a good thing I am not a photographer, or else I would bring much Shame and Dishonor to my family.

Right. Here are a few decent birds from northern California, a veritable Shangri-la of vagrants. Bird here.

Orchard Oriole. Point Reyes. We walked up and someone pointed to this "Hooded Oriole". But the pictures tell a different story. Unfortunately for you, there is nothing in this image that would allude to either species. I just like the picture.

Tundra Swan. Pomponio State Beach. A rare bird in many parts of the state. Adults, being swans, appear very graceful, but this juvenile seems to be smiling about it's giant, pink, runny shnoz.

Yellow-throated Warbler. San Francisco. The same one as pictured a couple weeks ago. Hella rare. It's still here.

American Tree Sparrow. Point Reyes. Dan and I found this rufous-capped northern beast on the side of the road. 

The infamous Yellow-billed Loon. Sunnyvale. Many photographers got better pictures of it than me, but I never thought I would be lucky enough to get Yellow-billed Loon shots. This is the first one I've seen since the 90's...

Summer Tanager. San Francisco. The best birds to chase are the ones right down the street from your house.

Blackpoll Warbler. Arcata. Rob Fowler pished it in. Not super rare, but it was a Humboldt County bird for me.

Prairie Warbler. Point Reyes. I wonder if the disgruntled birder we ran into ever got to see it. If not, she probably went home and hurt herself. She really wanted to see it.

Ancient Murrelets. Half Moon Bay. While not insanely rare, its safe to say that this would be a life bird for many a birder out there. We were lucky enough to see over 30 birds last week, which is the most I've seen in California.

Lucy's Warbler. San Francisco. I think this is the quintessential rarity shot.

Greater White-fronted Goose. San Francisco. Not very rare, but I had to follow up the Lucy's Warbler with a better picture...

PELAGIC HELL

An anonymous light-mantled gull (Thayer's? Herring?) attempts to block my shot of a Rhinoceros Auklet. Photo taken yesterday off Half Moon Bay, CA...thanks to Debi Shearwater for the outing.

This week Felonious Jive was due for his monthly 10,000 Birds post....so get over there and read Don't Go On Pelagic Trips. Ever. It is not written sarcastically. I swear.

An addendum to that post: editing and sorting photos after a pelagic trip is a brutally disheartening and  generally horrifying experience. Nothing is sharp or framed correctly, and you have to trash the vast majority of your shots. Not encouraging. You don't even know what you're shooting half the time due to the motion of the boat, the swells and the birds themselves...yet another reminder that life is pain.

Right. Now I must summon the motivation to start in on prepping some Thanksgiving dishes....have a great holiday and remember, be grateful, don't let your family get to you, and fuck colonialism!

Secret Hooded Merganser Courtship Grounds

Recently, I had the honor of witnessing the action on the Secret Hooded Merganser Courtship Grounds at San Francisco's Golden Gate Park. I swear you could cut the duck pheromones in the air with a knife.

A drake gets ready to look really, really awesome.

The female sexpot awaits her courtship.

It begins. So sexy.

Impressive. Frog-throated merganser.

What a hunk.

So fit. This merganser man could make some beautiful ducklings.

"Why don't you come at me bro?"

The winner, with new girlfriend. Hoods down.

Complete Financial Ruin And Social Castration: The Cassowary Sings, Part II

"Inconceivable".

In this second segment, we complete our conversation with birding raconteur Cass Grattan, a true creature of scumbaggery...


Your "companion" is a birder. I've seen her observe birds myself, you cannot deny it. How has this complicated your relationship?

Yes, she is guilty of correct bird identification, in the first degree...multiple counts, in fact. The main problem is that she has seen so many more mind-altering birds than I have, and is relatively content with her illustrious sightings and career achievements. The idea of a White Tern nesting on my front porch is not only inconceivable, but plunges me into a serious existential dilemma. I simply must move to a place where this might happen, even if it means complete financial ruin and social castration. Since my partner has had this experience, and provided photographic evidence and personal anecdotes concerning White Tern parenting philosophy, she has the power to induce dangerous levels of jealousy and feelings of inferiority within me. Can we move on to the next question please?

Clearly White Tern Complex is something to be avoided at all costs...do you have any additional mental problems? Demons to battle that would explain why you became a birder in the first place?

Sure I've got problems. It has always been unclear to me the relationship between personal strife and birding. Perhaps the answer is too horrible to bear. I try not to think about it often. At it's most benign, birding is a reason to go outdoors and get some air, exercise your brain, and take pleasure in the splendor and beauty of it all. But perhaps it is all you have, and the addiction has known this the whole time. Over the years it has slowly and gently herded you into isolation and obscurity until you have nothing else BUT birding. Hopefully The Truth lies somewhere between these poles, perhaps on the pole...which is where Truth belongs.

Cass tackles an art-laden tower at Slab City.

Why should people care about birds?

Because they are free. And I mean free in all senses of the word, except in that one way.

Favorite place to bird? Why?

Shit. These are really hard questions. Madera Canyon has been such a vortex of drama and joy in my life. That has to be on the list. Imperial Valley and all of its backwater joys and horrors. Patagonia and the Chiricahuas. That whole SE Arizona loop. In Washington there is Grays Harbor and Skagit/Samish Flats in the west. Locally, I go to The Hook (Ediz Hook, Port Angeles) with Coco often in the winter...a post-industrial wasteland with a wonderful sea/shorebird medley upon its toxic waters. I like those zones that are brutalized but beautiful. Salton Sea is a good example. Brutiful. A good place to drink Baileys and coffee and not be harassed for your habits or hobbies.

Perhaps that is one of the great defining traits of a favorite birding spot...that it allows one to be one's self. There is room for your flag to fly. In which case, the Beatty Ranch in the Huachucas is up there because it is well known that you can crossdress freely there, and still get a great seat from which to watch the hummingbird gluttony and be free of public ridicule. This is probably because the bird life is so much more gaudy than the large Asian-Welsh man in a sequin nightgown sitting next to you.

Nudibranch. Photo by Cass Grattan.

If you had to be predated upon by a particular species, what would it be?

Some sort of mixed flock of tubenoses would be ideal. Fulmars should be in there. I guess that's important to me for some reason. Or a skua. Okay...first by fulmars and Buller's Shearwaters, with a couple of storm-petrels in there. Then everybody is chased off my bloated carcass by a skua who eats my heart. Then my tatters sink down and I'm finished off by pelagic nudibranchs, who then live for hundreds of years. Yes...that is how I want to go.

It is well known that you have had intercourse with several birdwatchers. What was that like?

Fun!

Speaking of intercourse, you have a young potential uberbirder fresh out of the womb. Do you have a vigorous training regimen planned for the wee one?

Well, being that we named her after the most fearsome bird in North America and her first vocalizations sounded eerily like a Common Nighthawk/Burrowing Owl love child, I'd say she is off to a pretty stellar start. We birdwatch a lot as a family, and I don't see that changing until she hits that rebellious teenager phase. But that is when Mom and Pop are going to pull the rebellious parenting thing, and Daughter will have no choice but to retreat into her bird study sanctum in an effort to cope with her apathetic and increasingly distant parents. Thus The Circle goes Unbroken.

Improvised Olympics at Joshua Tree National Park.

Do you have a spirit bird?

I'm with Muir on this one. Water Ouzel.

Who is your favorite birder?

I like that Laura Bush chases rare birds, but I think it's a tie between George Grinnell and the illustrious Felonious Jive.


That does it for this installment of the Human Birdwatcher Project's highly-acclaimed interview series. Hopefully, you will come away with some answers about how birders work...or better yet, even more questions. Until next time....

People Are Going To Work While We're Getting Cock-Eyed

Upland Sandpiper. Medicine Lake National Wildlife Refuge, Montana

In the spirit of Unemployment, I am beginning my morning with some Jim Beam Rye in my coffee. This seems like a proper way to celebrate Thursday.

Today, I offer you no cohesive theme whatsoever, but I do like all of these photos. The sandpiper was one of only 2 out of god-knows-how-many that I saw over the summer (love that prairie) that allowed for close approach. They are life-enhancing birds.

Yellow-winged Tanger. Chavarrillo, Mexico.

This is one of the many Yellow-winged Tanagers that dropped by our hawk counting tower and provided some extra entertainment. They seem well adapted to towns and are easy to come by...maybe one will pop into Texas some day.

Great Blue Heron. San Francisco, CA.

This bird was foraging at the Sutro Baths, ruins of an old bathhouse right on the beach.

TOAD. Chavarrillo, Mexico.

A toadular creature. I have no idea what sort (TELL ME). There were a few living in a little watering hole for livestock outside of town.

Sandhill Crane. Camas National Wildlife Refuge, ID.

I stopped at Camas last May on my way to North Dakota. I had never heard of the place before, but it was full of birds that wanted me to observe the crap out of them. A few cranes were hanging around, including one on a nest.

That's all for today....I've got to finish my 10,000 Birds post and get the rest of Cassowary's interview up...no rest for the wickedly nerdy.

San Francisco's Golden Gate Park

Hooded Merganser. A legitimate duck.

Wow. I am tired. I'm not sure if this Two Buck Chuck is helping or hurting...it's only the first glass. I got in some solid birding today, complete with two year birds (Lucy's Warbler and Tundra Swan), as well as Yellow-throated, Palm and Black-throated Gray Warblers. How often do you see Lucy's and Yellow-throated in the same flock? So sick.

Right. Due to fatigue, this will be kept short. All of the pictures here today were taken in San Francisco's Golden Gate Park over the last couple weeks. It is probably San Francisco's only birding spots that is A) Large, B) Not Hideous, and C) Gets Rare Birds. It is over 3 miles long, over 1,000 acres in size, and is 20% larger than New York's Central Park. Aside from various museums and a small herd of Buffalo to keep the crust punks/hippies at bay, the park hosts a variety of bizarre habitats and has had its share of good birds over the years....almost all of which I have not seen.

But that is not the point. Remember that fall migration is still on, and you must keep your eyes Open. A dreary and birdless fate awaits those who do not.

Palm Warbler. Rare, but just barely. Always nice though.

Wood Duck. One of the birds that the average human imagination could never come up with.

Glaucous-winged Gull. Maybe this is one of the birds I saw murdering Crested Auklets in Alaska last year.

Greater White-fronted Goose vanity shot.

Raccoon. Hey buddy.

Summer Tanager. On the San Francisco rarity scale, I would give it a 3/5.

Pied-billed Grebe. Possibly on drugs.

Green wing of a Green-winged Teal.

Thayer's Gull. Sorry for the blown out picture...I will have to go back to get better ones.

Half Moon Bay Pelagics III: The Dirty Sea

We saw both Common and Arctic Terns...this is a Common Tern, a certified Poorly Named Bird. 

Pink-footed and Buller's Shearwaters. This was one of the few shearwater rafts we found on the water that day. Poor. I need more Buller's in my life.

South Polar Skua, aka. Slayer of Penguins. An honest-to-God beast of a bird.

Red Phalaropes. The English call them "Gray Phalaropes". Conclusions? The English are pessimists.

Northern Fulmars only eat popcorn.

Black-footed Albatross. 

This Sabine's Gull scored a good chunk of fish guts. Ferosh.

A semi-tattered Pomarine Jaeger.

California Sea Lions milling.

And there you have it people. There are many more pictures, but I can only get so repetitive. I am due to go out, once again, in the near future...I can only hope for exotic albatross and strange petrels, the likes of which I have never even heard of. The ocean is a fickle place however, and I will count myself lucky to have calm seas and a handful of year birds...only time will tell.