The $$$ Bird, Green Pie, A Dripping Warbler

Green Jay. This is a real $$$ bird...this is one of the reasons birders come here to spawn...er, birdwatch. This is why there are so many World Birding Centers. Is there anything quite like a Green Jay? Sabal Palm Sanctuary, Brownsville.

I fear for myself this spring. The birding here can just be so good...how will I settle for anything less? Being based in the Lower Rio Grande Valley (less than an hour to South Padre Island, less than an hour to Santa Ana National Wildlife Refuge), I've been exposed to a lot in the past three weeks. Migration is on, without a doubt...the first wave of warblers, flycatchers, raptors and shorebirds has washed over south Texas...I think it's safe to say that this corner of country pops out of the March Doldrums earlier than most places, which is very good for my mental health.

I see these birds on the reg, but have yet to fully come to terms with them. If there was some intermediate looking relative between Green Jay and Blue Jay (Teal Jay? Aquamarine Jay?) it would make sense, but we lack the avian context.

With each passing weekend I've been able to get a better grasp on the birding scene here, which generally involves a lot of time on eBird, Texbirds (although that's more useful for watching birder drama), and checking a couple relevant blogs before heading out and using my #7 powers to lay waste to any birds that have the misfortune of being in the area...never before have they been observed, listened to, and precisely identified with such speed and mastery. Things will never be the same.

There still hasn't been a bird I've felt the urge to chase yet, which I find baffling, but that has not instilled any sense of apathy in me. Spring migration with both trans-gulf and circum-gulf migrants coming through is really motivating to get out and bird with no abandon.

Right. Here are some more recent birds to ponder.

Red-crowned Parrots...another slice of the avian green pie down here. Aside from the local population (and the 100% exotic population in California) Red-crowned Parrot is a declining Mexican endemic, with a small range in the northeastern part of the country. It has been suggested that some of the birds here are Mexican natives (in other words, not escaped caged birds or their progeny), although it is impossible to prove one way or the other. Photographed at Mont Meta Cemetery.



I haven't visited any of the big parrot roosts yet, I just happen to see these things once in a while during normal birding outings. If you are not completely deaf, their raucous calls are hard to ignore if the birds are in the area. If you are completely deaf...then I apologize.

Black-crested Titmouse is one of the least sought-after valley specialties. No one plots a trip here salivating over the thought of point-blank views of BCTI, but that has not prevented me from growing fond of them. They are a common bird in native woodland habitats and often form the backbone of mixed flocks. Photographed at Laguna Atascosa National Wildlife Refuge.

Some people like to think that their puppy is cute, their kitten is adorable, or their baby is to die for. I think we can all agree this titmouse is taking to whole concept of "cute"to a whole new level.

Northern Parula is a common early migrant here, and they provide a much-needed respite from the Yellow-rumped and Orange-crowned Warbler scene. Oh, and if you have ever heard the line "warblers were dripping off the trees", I offer you this photo of a warbler dripping off a tree.

Northern Parulas rank fairly high on the crippling scale. I find the breast pattern mesmerizing (as I find many breast patterns).

Seriously though, this is a nice bird to get to see regularly. I suspect you easterners take them for granted, to your detriment. Photographed at Laguna Atascosa.

White-tipped Doves are pretty common here...this is the best I could do in the crush department so far. They are easy to find at feeding stations but getting them to sit still is rough. I like the purple spectacles these doves use to see through. Photographed at Sabal Palm.

White-tailed Hawks ply the skies here year-round. With their long wings, sharp head pattern, contrasting underwing and short tails, they look like the perfect cross between Short-tailed and Swainson's Hawks. Photographed east of Brownsville, TX.

Eastern Phoebe is not a bird that will leave the observer broken on the ground and twitching once eye contact is made, but people have strong feelings about them. It's an amicable bird. It is a birder's bird, and so it is only natural that I sponsor this practitioner of The Economy of Style. Santa Ana National Wildlife Refuge.

Scissor-tailed Flycatcher (one of the world's greatest birds) are saturating the valley right now. It's difficult to not see one once you get out of the city. I have lost track of the number of these I've agonizingly had to drive past when I didn't have a camera or couldn't pull over. If Green Jay is an improbable bird, then Scissor-tailed Flycatcher borders on an impossibility, although sadly I can't back up that statement with the right photo...yet. Photographed west of Laguna Atascosa.

The Patch Shall Be Flogged

This weekend will be devoted to tracking down migrants...I am sick and tired of the Yellow-rumped and Orange-crowned brigade...warblers of great worth are arriving in south Texas, and I must find them. Until then, check out what The Great Ornithologist Felonious Jive is up to across the street, where this Plain Chachalaca lurks.

The Boobies Were Real

Ah, Baja. It wasn't that long ago...but sitting here in Harlingen, Texas, I feel very removed from that trip. But a dream it was not...the boobies were real. And so I thought I'd churn out another post before I get overloaded with work and get caught in the deep and fast-moving current that is spring migration on the Gulf Coast.

Unlike Todos Santos, an apparent booby wasteland, Blue-footed Boobies were lusciously abundant in La Paz. They were easy to see from the main waterfront, where these photos were taken.

Plunge-diving birds bring me much joy...you need good form if you are going to plunge underwater from great height and expect to catch something. There were also a number of Brown Boobies in the area, but I didn't manage any photos of them.

Being on the Sea of Cortez side of the peninsula, the common large gull in La Paz is Yellow-footed (above), not Western. Western Gulls are puny in comparison to the mammoth Yellow-footed.

Yellow-footed Gull is truly a gnarly beast. I wonder how they would do in a duel with Great Black-backed Gull. Let's hope they never hybridize, for all of nature will be lost.

Here's a young Yellow-footed. Unlike other large gulls, a 3rd cycle Yellow-footed Gull is essentially an adult bird. They grow up fast in Mexico.

Moon Vulture. Photographed at Playa Balandra, an awesome beach north of La Paz.

Ash-throated Flycatcher is a true creature of the scrub. You show me scrub, chaparral, and trees of unimpressive height...and I will show your Ash-throated Flycatcher. Their habitat doesn't change very drastically throughout their range, and it doesn't look that different down by the cape either. Photographed at Playa Balandra.

Atop the coke villa for a sunset, we ooze sexy.

I got my best ever looks at Gilded Flicker on this trip. Photographed in the cemetery at Todos Santos.

Having gorged on sweet sweet sweet Mexican nectar, the flicker contemplates the irony of feasting on bright flowery wonderfulness amid a barren field saturated with human remains. Gilded Flickers, after all, are known for leading a rich and rewarding inner life.

Hooded Oriole seems to be one of the most abundant winter birds in the Todos Santos area. Most of the males were a bit dingy looking...but they are still honorable birds. Todos Santos.

Xantus's Hummingbird...a bird that I saw many of, and a bird that I miss. Sure I can walk across the street today and see Buff-bellied Hummingbirds, but the Trochilid of Xantus lives in a league of its own. Do go and visit them when you have the chance. Todos Santos.

Magnificent Frigatebird doing a Black Skimmer impression at La Poza, Todos Santos. Truly versatile birds.

Moon Frigate. Photographed at Punta Lobos, south of Todos Santos.

Frigatebirds have a habit of furnishing some of the best birding memories. La Poza.

I have taken many frigatebird photos over the years...I think this is by far the funniest. Keep in mind the bird is not directly overhead, it's actually flying low and "standing" vertically in midair.

I do love me some Bonus Herps, although I depend on the kindness of nerds to identify them for me most of the time. This is a Red Diamond Rattlesnake (thanks Natalie).

Ok, here's a mystery lizard that lived at our coke villa in Todos Santos. Any of you cold-blooded folk familiar with this? I also saw a San Lucas Banded Rock Lizard on the side of the house one day, but failed at getting any documentation. It was a crippler though.

Our complete pinche Mexican crew on an ill-fated walk through the desert. It turns out jamming seven people into a tiny rental car doesn't work very well...but thanks to our overheating car, we all got some Wild Ass.

The Celebrity Nightjar...The Nemesis Falls...Icterid Growth Hormone

Texas has been good to me so far, despite the internationally-recognized March Doldrums being in effect (I have not chased a single rarity and seen only a handful of spring migrants), entirely too much wind, and long work days that sap all my blog-creating juices. So to keep the cobwebs off BB&B, I offer you a Texas post.

Basically, I'm working a lot, but have time to explore new places, return to spots I haven't birded in years, and point my lens at a lot of things that have not seen my lens before. I have also discovered that although almost all food is cheaper here than in California, whisky is more expensive.

This Common Pauraque at Estero Llano Grande State Park has probably seen more photographers than any other bird, which should not come as a surprise. What a goatsucker! The patterns! The subtlety! I'm pretty sure I first saw pictures of it several years ago. It sits in the same spot every day, just a few feet off a well-used trail. It doesn't give a fuck. Everyone knows about this bird...so by all means marvel at its greatness, but whenever you see a good picture of a pauraque, don't give the photographer any credit whatsoever for finding it, stalking it, etc., because it's probably this bird.

This pauraque isn't quite as popular as popular as the bird(s) at Estero Llano Grande, but I'll take it. Photographed at Santa Ana National Wildlife Refuge.

Just down the trail from the pauraque at Estero Llano Grande, I finally met my Nemesis Bird. In case you didn't know, I have horrible luck with owls...until last week my heard-only list for owls was at 4 species (U.S.), which isn't really acceptable when you have no choice but to go around informing people that you are the #7 birder in the nation. Eastern Screech-Owl was not only something I've never been able to see, it's also something I'm 99.9% sure I saw in Wisconsin once but refused to count due to the pathetic quality of the observation. Finally, I can rest easy...until I realize what the next Nemesis is.

From what I gather, Eastern Screech-Owls are fairly common in the Lower Rio Grande Valley and are not particularly difficult to see. This bird also lives on a trail...I wonder how many unwitting birders walk by without noticing.

Black-bellied Whistling-Ducks abound here. They fly over my apartment every night and every morning on their way to and from feeding sites. By day, these are easy to find in large numbers...go to any disgusting body of water and you will see them. You show me a repulsive body of water and I will show you Black-bellied Whistling-Ducks. I've yet to see any Fulvous Whistling-Ducks down here, and I yearn for them...we haven't crossed paths in about 18 years or so. Photographed next to some gross ditch in Harlingen.

The mighty bellow of a Black-bellied Whistling-Duck sounds like an amplified version of a squeaky dog toy. Dixieland Park, Harlingen.

Though they are striking birds, their feet really set them apart from everything else. They are huge, muscular, and undeniably pink. It's not unusual to see them perched on powerlines early in the morning. Photographed over some terrible ditch in Harlingen.

Altamira Oriole, like most of its cousins, is a crippler. Like the species above, this is what draws birders to this strange and otherwise obscure corner of the country. They're not hard to find here in the Lower Rio Grande Valley, especially if there are feeders out. Photographed at Santa Ana National Wildlife Refuge.

Altamira Oriole is really burly. Though they are colored like many other orioles, they are built like they are on a strict diet of Icterid Growth Hormone. They have huge feet and a bill that's almost more like a grosbeak than an oriole.

Yellow-crowned Night-Heron. It's nice to be around so many different wading birds again! I must crush them. Estero Llano Grande State Park.

Fiending for Rosy-Finches at Sandia Crest

Behold, the Brown-capped Rosy-Finch. This is a bird of life. I made a space for it inside my soul. There aren't enough pink birds out there.

The time had come...the Perpetual Weekend was shuttered and it was back to join the workforce...of the Lower Rio Grande Valley. I had only one planned stop between Oakland and Harlingen...the legendary Sandia Crest, which towers above Albuquerque. The lodge there is notorious among birders for being the best and easiest place to see Brown-capped and Black Rosy-Finch anywhere, since these range-restricted birds of the ultramontane come to feeders there. Both of these birds would be LIFERS, and you know how I feel about that. Every day I checked eBird for rosy-finch reports and the outlook did not look good...there had been no reports of any rosy-finch in over a week by the time I arrived...was I too late? Did I blow it?

I don't even know what to say about these birds. Living strictly at absurdly high elevations, they probably don't even see people when they aren't at the lodge. As I had many hours to cover that day, it was hard to let go of this epic bird I had just met. I saw about 4 Brown-caps that day. 

Fueled by a greasy breakfast from my beloved Waffle House (why are there not more Waffle Houses?), I made my way up the mountain and made it to Sandia Crest without incident. There was a thick layer of snow, the cold was biting and the wind was ripping. The lodge was not open yet so I stood awkwardly by the fence on the south side, hoping some birds would happen. A Golden Eagle cruised overhead, and eventually other birds began appearing. After enduring a few minutes of Gray-headed Juncos and Mountain Chickadees, 25+ rosy-finches fell out of the sky (I hate that phrase, although it seems to turn some birders on) and swooped around the corner, allowing no view whatsoever. But where before there only lay a faint hope, adrenaline raced through my veins and I could hear myself jabbering like the bird junkie I am. The world grew brighter, then foggy at the edges...I could feel my pupils dilating as I stared anxiously around the corner, hoping the flock would pop into view. Finally a few finches flew in and landed behind me, and I was able to doublelifer both species in the same binocular view.

Black Rosy-Finch is a crippler. Pink on black is a completely winning combination.

But they disappeared quickly. I climbed the ice-laden staircases and went around to the other side of the lodge to see what was up there, and I violently shit my pants (well, almost) when I turned a corner and a huge pile of Rosy-Finches sat on the snow just 20 feet away. Fuuuuuuuuuck! Although it was dark and horrible out I got the looks I wanted, and then again later after the lodge opened. Apparently this flock had been seen daily for a number of days in a row, but none of the birders writing in the handy rosy-finch log at the lodge had bothered to eBird them or post to the listserv.

When I first found the main flock of rosy-finches, I was astonished to be looking at Black Rosy-Finch after Black Rosy-Finch...there were no Gray-crowned. This was not the ratio I expected, but one that I can't complain about.

It was fun looking at the variety of Black Rosy-Finches present...there were a lot of young birds and adults in various stages of molt. This may have been the winner of the beauty contest.

Brown-capped and Black Rosy-Finches. In a chair. Why not?

The most abundant bird at Sandia Crest was the Gray-headed race of Dark-eyed Junco (there was a token Oregon-type present also). I can't believe such puny birds can thrive in such conditions.

Something about these birds just make them seem more savvy than Oregon Juncos...a better application of the Economy of Style perhaps?

Unlike other U.S. nuthatches, there are a number of White-breasted Nuthatch subspecies. This is one of the interior west subspecies, which sound noticeably different than the west coast birds that I am used to. As you probably know, the money is on these birds getting split at some point in the future. I was surprised to see White-breasted Nuthatch at Sandia Crest at all, since the site is well above 10,000 feet...don't know if I've seen the species that high in California.

I'm not used to these fancy Steller's Jays either. Meet macrolopha, the only subspecies found in New Mexico. The birds in California lack the alluring eye arcs.

Nerds may remember a proposal to split Mountain Chickadees a few years ago. This is gambeli, yet another montane resident that is a different subspecies than California's baileyae. This is also my best Mountain Chickadee photo to date...not bad for shooting through a sliding glass door (most of these shots were through that door as well).

While sipping coffee in the lodge waiting for the finches to return, this son of a bitch appeared out of nowhere. I am not a creature of rodents, but I think this is a Kaibab Squirrel, one of the subspecies of Abert's Squirrel. Yes? UPDATE!!! It's not a Kaibab, it's a Merriam's Squirrel, Sciurus alberti mimus (Thanks David). I told you I'm not literate in rodents. 

For those who have difficulty with the notorious Mountain Chickadee vs. Abert's Squirrel ID problem, here is a comparison photo. Experts have suggested the putative squirrel is actually a F2 MOCH X ABSQ hybrid, but considering the unusual state of molt the jury is still out.