Sapsucker of Confusion (Red-napey)

For whatever reason (where I live, my birding habits), I just don't see the number of sapsuckers that I used to. I have seen very few Red-naped Sapsuckers in the last several years, which is why I come to you now.

As you probably know, Red-naped and Red-breasted Sapsuckers interbreed frequently, and southern California gets a fair number of these hybrids. Backcrossing of hybrids with full-blooded Red-naped and Red-breasted certainly happens, which can lead to strange-looking birds. Recently in Ventura County, I had 6 sapsuckers in one set of pepper trees...2 hybrids, 2 Red-breasted, a Yellow-bellied with a broken wing, and this bird.

At first I thought the bird was a Red-naped, since at first glance it looks pretty much how a Red-naped Sapsucker ought to look. But then I noticed a subtle touch of red on each of the bird's cheeks...I know Red-naped is prone to having some red in the black eyeline behind the eye, but I've never heard of red in the white moustachial stripe as a known trait for pure Red-naped...of course I rarely see this species anymore, so I'm hoping those with more sapsucker exposure can chime in. Is this something to expect for Red-naped?

This bird's left side did not have quite as much red breaking into the white moustachial. Also odd was the color of the bird's nape; it was noticeably duller than the color of the crown and throat, but I don't think this is particularly problematic for Red-naped.

In the field I was leaning towards calling this bird a mostly Red-naped individual with some recent Red-breasted genes, but now I am leaning more toward an aberrant Red-naped. If you have experience in this realm, please leave a comment below, I'm curious to see what people think of these red-tinted cheeks. Anyways, a very sharp-looking and confiding bird.

Here is a more straightforward bird, present at the same site. I thought it was a Red-naped until I got an unobstructed view of the nape; it had a continuous red stripe running all the way from the forecrown to the base of it's neck, like a male Red-bellied Woodpecker. Nice-looking hybrid. The other hybrid present looked much more similar to a Red-breasted. All photos are from Canada Larga Road in Ventura County, CA.

Birder Feud! The Hatfields vs. The MacDon...McCoys

Birdchick has one of the best (in terms of entertainment value) blog posts of the year up right here. Do yourself a favor and check it out. Without dipping into the convoluted but worthwhile discussion of how gender plays out in the birding community, I will just say I can relate to Birdchick's position. It's always a surprise when you find out someone who barely knows you has mysteriously built up a shoddy soapbox to spit venom about you in some corner of the internet...the fact that it's based on birding, of all things, makes it even sadder.

Breeding Confirmed or Crushing On A Disturbing New Level

Birders. There are times when you witness things on birding trips that are just totally bizarre. That you just would never see unless you happened to be in the right place at the right time. Sometimes these are things that don't fit in readily with a bird blog, but they need to see the light of day nonetheless.

Almost a year ago now, Dipper Dan, Stilt, Frank and I were birding in Costa Rica. We were birding the road downhill from El Cerro Lodge near Tarcoles; the birding was fun but not intense, and with the sun setting we had precious little time left. There were Purple Gallinules, Southern Lapwings, Yellow-headed Caracaras, Scarlet Macaws, Turquoise-crowned Motmots, Prothonotary Warblers...it was nice. But the real time sucker/show stealer was not a bird at all, nor any kind of wildlife...it was what you see below. No explanation is needed. Anyone who has lived on a farm probably won't be particularly impressed, but we were all screaming, cursing and cheering in awe.

If you are expecting a child soon and want the birth crushed in fine detail from a considerable distance, you know who to ask. Happy holidays!

Black, White, Gray, Brown

It's winter now. All the birds seem to be black, white, gray, brown. When I first started birding, Horned Grebes were relatively uncommon where I lived. For some reason, part of my brain now thinks they are uncommon everywhere, so I still get a little worked up whenever I see more than a couple in one spot. Of course, in the bay area, not only are Horned Grebes common, they are easily crushable. Photographed at the Berkeley Fishing Pier.

I first started birding the Berkeley Fishing Pier (next to the Berkeley Marina...in Berkeley) a few years ago when someone found an approachable Yellow-billed Loon. Of course, I never saw it (my success rate when chasing this species is famously low), but its a fun nearby place to check in winter for loons, diving ducks, etc. There's always a few Common Loons hanging out.

The only place I've ever taken Bufflehead photos that I like is at Lake Merritt. It's also the only place where I've gotten likable shots of Tufted Duck, Common Goldeneye, Canvasback, Redhead...you get the idea. Go there some time.

When I first started out birding, the rainbow of colors locked away in the blackness of the bird's head always fascinated me. It was impossible to see at any distance, but close up, the greens/blues/purples lit up in a certain way that I've still not quite seen on any other bird. It still mesmerizes me.

High on the list of birds that no one wants look at pictures of is female Surf Scoter. Visually, she just doesn't have much to offer besides an oversized bill and a white spot on the cheek. Female Surfs get misidentified as Black Scoters from time to time, due to the variety of cheek patterns they can sport; at times they can appear almost white-cheeked, like a female Black. The bill size should always give these birds away though, as Black Scoters are not nearly as obnoxious looking. Sorry you had to see this. Photographed at the Berkeley Fishing Pier.

Of course, adult male Surf Scoters are very pleasing, although they look manic and depraved much of the time. Photographed at the Berkeley Fishing Pier.

Even more uninteresting than a female Surf Scoter is a young male Surf Scoter. I would say they go beyond boring to actually unpleasant to look at. Gross.

Speaking of boring and unpleasant, here is a molting male Eurasian Wigeon photographed earlier in the fall. You can see some of the gray feathering coming in on the back that we are more accustomed to seeing on males this time of year. Photographed at the Corte Madera Wetlands in Larkspur, CA.

It's nice to have a lot of shorebirds around in winter, although the rare shit from earlier in the fall almost never sticks around for the cold months. Oh well, sometimes quantity over quality can be ok. Photographed at Shoreline Park in Oakland, CA.

Black-necked Stilts are an abundant bird on the west coast. Those in the east (and other stilt-depauperate areas of the world) are most unfortunate. Photographed at Arrowhead Marsh in Oakland, CA.

In northern California, we are blessed/cursed with a widespread population of moffitti Canada Goose, which are introduced from other parts of the country. While some consider them a minor nuisance and they surely have some sort of impact on native species, they do attract native goose species in fall and winter who are more than happy to join the flock. Why are moffitti so successful here? Berries, of course.

Bucolic Lake Merritt and its winter legion of scaup.

A Little Bunting Abides

It was Friday morning when I got the horrifying news. My blood ran cold, and my heart skipped several beats. My tongue felt like it had been pickled in formaldehyde. It was all too real...a Little Bunting has been found in California. A chaseable Little Bunting. Unfortunately, this ***MEGA*** was 5 hours away from where I live; I was immediately struck the fear of it disappearing within 24 hours, and then inner conflict set in...attempting to reconcile with the fact that I might have to drive all the way to Humboldt for a bird I might not see. But Humboldt County is my old stomping grounds, and I had success with several Siberians up there (Brown Shrike, Common Greenshank, etc.), and once I got the moral support I needed from Booby Brittany, I knew what had to be done.

The bird was first found the previous day by Keith Slauson, an old coworker who had ears of gold. He had first detected the bird by it's call note (which is how bird wizards operate), but had only laid eyes on it in poor light in late afternoon. It was quickly refound and confirmed the next morning, and then the madness began.

Little Bunting has only been seen in California 3 previous times, and only once where people were able to chase it. It's a bird I considered a blocker until now...I had no idea if I would ever see one in California. It's just rare. I had no idea if I would ever see that delicate rust and ocher face at all, anywhere. You can't go to some barren Alaskan island just expecting to blunder into one of these, and I don't have any trips to Russia planned anytime soon.

But that wonderful, poignant face is now one that I know. That I feel strongly about. For it is a face that I stared at for several hours in the past couple of days. Under cover of darkness Booby Brittany and I swept north from Oakland Saturday night, deep into the bowels of the Emerald Triangle. We arrived at Fischer Road early in the morning, when only the hardiest of winter birders were out searching. For an agonizing 45 minutes, there was no sign of The Bird; the Savannah Sparrow flock the bunting had joined was nowhere to be seen. But just as my anxiety reached a crescendo, the fields and fences became alive with Savannah Sparrows. Within minutes a long-tailed bird with white outer tail feathers grandly plopped down into the mud, and everything was fine.

A few tips for those of you plotting to see this bird; don't park right next to where the bird hangs out, as it will occasionally come to that puddle in the pullout to drink or perch nearby, which will provide the best possible looks. The bird doesn't seem to like it when there are cars parked over its puddle...park at the end of the road, or on the other side of the bridge. It can disappear for a while, but it moves around and vocalizes enough so that you shouldn't have to wait hours to see it...it's usually with Savannah Sparrows and almost never leaves the field to the west of the road. Lastly, learn its call note, which is higher and more junco-like than the call note of a Savannah Sparrow.

Here is a photo of the bunting's preferred spot. I fear that the crowd of birders mistook the herd of cows for a Savannah Sparrow flock. Doesn't anyone read field guides anymore? How embarrassing. Pic by Booby Brittany.

Carara National Park and Tarcoles (Part 1)

What to say about Carara National Park? Carara's "river trail" is often touted as some of the best birding in Costa Rica, if not the very best. Well, I can't say it was the best, but it was very, very good...and we did not even get there early. Within a couple hundred feet of the trailhead we ran into a mixed flock, which included our first Black-hooded Antshrikes (that's a female above).

Yet again, we were slaying lifer after lifer as we made our way down the trail. We eventually made it down to the old oxbow, where one of the park guides had told us we could find the legendary Boat-billed Herons. He was right...awesome birds.

Dot-winged Antwrens were one of the most abundant species along the river trail. Here is a female, which is actually a lot fancier looking than the male.

The aptly-named Eye-ringed Flatbill. There isn't much to say about Eye-ringed Flatbills, I didn't see enough of them to really get to know them. Their name sounds like that of a fake bird.

Cooperative but not crushable were a couple Baird's Trogons. Not that you can see here, but these birds really turn into cripplers when they dare venture into the sunlight.

Streaked Flycatcher! By the time we saw this bird we were exhausted. The river trail is very easy walking (at least in the dry season), but that was some of the most intense humidity I've ever experienced. We were all delirious by the time we got back to the car. Someone even hallucinated a Rufescent Tiger-Heron afterwards. This should go without saying, but be sure to bring water out on these trails.

The Tarcoles River downstream from Carara is, well, tranquilo. We actually did attempt to do a river tour, but we were completely unsuccessful in locating the preferred operator listed in the birder's guide we were using...either something was up with the map provided or the road had been washed out. You might want to try calling ahead if this is something you are planning on doing. There is good birding in the area (including mangrove specialties), although it lacks the intensity of the weird and crippling avefauna of Carara.

Rose-throated Becard are fairly common in Costa Rica and you can expect to find them in a variety of locations. This richly colored bird with a pleasant demeanor is a female. Photographed near Tarcoles.

Here is the male Rose-throated Becard, which may disturb you. Yes, Rose-throated Becards do not have rose throats in Costa Rica. Photographed near Tarcoles.

Costa Rica isn't known for its diversity of sparrows, although there are some cool ones. The fantastically-marked Stripe-headed Sparrow was a much-welcomed lifer. Stripe-headed Sparrow is a member of Peucaea, which also includes the more familiar Cassin's, Botteri's, Rufous-winged, and Bachman's Sparrows. Photographed near Tarcoles.

Bare-throated Tiger-Heron is a really cool bird that birders will come across regularly in Costa Rica. It reminds me of a giant, fancy bittern. Such fine patterning. Such the bare throat. Photographed near Tarcoles.

My sad attempt at a Chestnut-backed Antbird photo. This thing was flitting around just a few feet away and I did not have what it took to get a real crush out of it...truly a shameful performance on my part. But look at that bird! And what a bird it is. This is the antbird species we ran into most frequently throughout the country; it's a real looker. I think the only other species I laid eyes on was a Bicolored at Quebrada Gonzales. Photographed at Carara National Park.

Return of the Crusher

After close to a month of not taking bird photos, I finally got my crusher back. Cautiously optimistic that everything was fine, I lurked out to Lake Merritt to see if I had the capacity of damage infliction that I was hoping for. My first targets were Canvasbacks...

Very quickly I found that any worries I had were unfounded. It's good to be back in business. Here's a hen Canvasback modeling her Economy of Style.

Black-crowned Night-Herons at the lake are always eager for attention. When observing birds, it's important to be able to see how far their eyeballs protrude from their sockets.

An adult Glaucous-winged Gull was equally obliging. Orbital ring color is a very helpful field mark for adult gull ID; Glaucous-wings use pink eyeliner.

Glaucous wings. Frosty.

This adult Thayer's Gull was also hanging around, behaving somewhat meekly.

Who needs sunlight for a good photo? This is by far my favorite shot of Thayer's that I have. Note the pale inner primaries.

The most recent addition to my small collection of second-cycle Thayer's photos. Note the dark (not black) primaries with pale tips, and small bill. Interesting to me, it attempted some half-assed begging for food aimed at the adult bird above. It didn't work.

Looking into the eye of an Eared Grebe is always a captivating, albeit confusing experience.

A Glaucous-winged X Herring hybrid achieves maximum bellow. I wouldn't want to be the piece of garbage inhaled into this bird's gaping maw.

I think this crush captures the essence of what Western Gulls are all about. It had just finished bludgeoning a shellfish.