Bolivar Flats and Anahuac: Friends, Fevers and Feelings

Back to Texas! Let's start with the legendary Bolivar Flats. Our wonderful group went on a couple different days; it was quite good one day and more on the meh side on another day, but it was easy to see why it's such a heavily-birded spot. The first time out we had good looks at this Glaucous Gull, which was lingering late into the spring. This is the southernmost Glaucous that I have ever seen, which also gave better looks than what I'm used to.

I expected a lot of great birds on this trip, but hulking arctic gulls were not among them. You just never know what will turn up when MAX REBO BIRDING TOURS is in the field! Speaking of unexpected hulking arctic birds, we just missed a Pomarine Jaeger by a few days that had been hanging out at Rollover Pass. I've never even seen a Pomarine Jaeger sitting on solid ground before, and I've seen a lot of them. The Vague Runt potential of the Bolivar Peninsula is not to be taken lightly.

Glaucous Gull bills look almost tubular to me sometimes, due to the depth and relative lack of a gonydeal angle on many individuals like this one. We also had Great and Lesser Black-backed Gulls here on this day...three quality gulls, especially for late spring, all of which were Sierra Bravos for me. Over 300 in Texas now, mmmm.

This Machine Nate and Officer Shaw courageously plow through distant flocks.

California has a lot of great birds, but Wilson's Plover is not among them. Birders who dwell within the range of Wilson's Plovers should consider themselves lucky. Be sure to stop and smell the Wilson's Plovers next time you are around them, I bet they smell good.

It's hard not to think of Wilson's as a heavily enhanced Snowy Plover. What invertebrate could withstand the bludgeoning bill and furious charge of a Wilson's Plover? Snowies, while similar, appear to woo their prey into submission by being cute.

We never could find any actual Snowies. Our trip list suffered for it, but we soldiered on.

Black-bellied Plovers were in abundance, as expected, and were looking mighty fine and crispy. At another site, we saw some get strung as American Golden-Plovers...which isn't a digression of the Summer Tanager-Blackburnian Warbler class, but very typical all the same. One past trip report I read from the area (probably at the same site where this misidentification went down) showed photos of an obvious American Golden-Plover, with the author discussing how it was an Upland Sandpiper and how he convinced his whole dubious group of the identification.

Geri, how do you do it? The blunders never cease.

Continuing with the plover theme, Piping Plovers are very lovable and easy to find at Bolivar. I wish I could have spent some more time with them, as they are worth all the time in the world. Speaking of time being a Piping Plover (as opposed to a flat circle), this species has grown into a major blocker in California...I think we are due for another.

One of the great perks of birding the UTC (and the thing that mostly makes the birding so great in the first place) is seeing migrants drop straight in from who-knows-where, like these Wilson's Phalaropes did. Yankee bravos! Oh by the way, you can potentially get ticketed for parking here without a beach pass, which you can apparently get from many local businesses. We just missed getting busted by a couple minutes one day.

Dan found a sand friend (sand-friend), and leaned in to hear what he had to say. His sandy compatriot whispered, "Your work here is finished, my friend. Go out to the command ship and await my orders."

Not as famous as Bolivar Flats but birded just as hard (since it is conveniently halfway between High Island and Bolivar) is Rollover Pass. We didn't see anything too juicy here but there was an enormous tern flock (mostly Commons) here one day.

Back to Anahuac! Yes, I will stoop to taking Cattle Egret photos. Disgusting, I know. What won't I do? Well, you don't get to be #7 by being classy. I will say that I won't chase unambiguous escaped birds though...some things are just wrong. Mandarin Ducks come to mind...seems like quite a few have turned into chase targets in recent years, which defies logic. The only Mandarin Duck I've seen was by accident, and I feel shame in even mentioning it.

Least Bittern in a classic pose. This is much better than a Mandarin Duck. I'm amazed this photo came out, I was pretty much shooting into the sun. Bless you Least Bittern, mysterious wraith of the reeds. Bless you Nikon, god of cameras.

Piles of Purple Gallinules await you on the Shoveler Pond Loop, where they are acclimated to cars and aren't shy. Check out the length of that gallinule talon!

Common Nighthawks were indeed common on multiple days. We didn't have the luck to blunder in to any Eastern Whip-poor-wills anywhere, but incredibly had a day-flying Chuck-will's-widow cruise high over Officer Shaw's Sugar Land yard right before yours truly had to drag himself to the airport. Classic April Magic in Texas.

Dipper Dan and I specifically went down into the bowels of the refuge in search of Seaside Sparrow, which I've only seen a few of and Dan had not seen at all. Finding them was an easy task...there were dozens of them out in Yellow Rail Prairie, singing and displaying everywhere. Seaside Sparrows galore! We were chuffed. Despite our Great Success with seeing copious amounts of Seaside Sparrows, we never did connect with any Nelson's here or anywhere else.

On the way back in from Trinity Bay and the Seaside Sparrows, we stopped at the one and only little woodlot next to the road before the Shoveler Pond turnoff. It was hella birdy! And there was a drip! In eBird this is called the Jackson Prairie Woodlot - I had never heard of it before but it was quite birdy, and I recommend it highly. We saw very few Blackpoll Warblers that week, this is the only one I got deec photos of.

While we had to put some work in daily to find Blackpolls, the other monochrome warbler migrating through the area was abundant day in and day out. Yes, you are in for a treat...I am talking about the Black-and-white Warbler.

On one emotional, tear-filled night, a choked up Dipper Dan confessed to me how much Black-and-white Warblers mean to him. Luckily for Dan, we saw them pretty much constantly. He had Black-and-white Fever, flogging the migrant patches for maximum Black-and-white yield.

Who am I to argue with these warblers, these feelings, these interesting approaches? Not even #7 has jurisdiction over such things.

Speaking of fevers and waking dreams...at one point my head became light...my tongue swelled up, and a salty liquid discharged from my eyes. What had gone wrong? Was this the end of Seagull Steve? It almost was. You see, Bay-breasted Warblers also occupied the woodlot, and this bird was suddenly gleaning about unnervingly close to me, closer than I've ever been before. The crippling effects of this species are not well-publicized compared to other warbler species, but I assure you they are very real and very serious. I thought this was a close call, but it was nothing compared to what I was about to experience at Sabine Woods...more on Sabine in the next installment.

Yet another Philadelphia Vireo that loves to forage in close proximity to people. This is the people's vireo, the vireo of the commons. Philadelphia Vireos are for all to enjoy. For a bird that is misidentified so much, they sure are considerate about trying to make sure everyone gets to see them well.

Massive Berserker Post

Although we are now in Ross's Goose season, this was a bird of spring. With a dent in its head for some reason, but more importantly, a bird from last spring. As you can guess, I have much blogwork to do. Stafford Lake, Marin County, CA.

Where did September go? Well dorks, there is one thing that we can all agree on...I have a lot of catching up to do with this blog. So with that unfortunate fact on the table, this post is going to be a photo blitz! No time for ruminating on the state of birding affairs or the usual bullshit. I typically don't include so many photos in a single post, but these are not typical times...

This Black-and-white Warbler was a totally unexpected find in a mixed flock at Point Reyes in mid-April. Most spring BAWWs in California are found in May. Five Brooks Pond, Marin County, CA.

I'm not used to seeing chipmunks at sea level, but then again Marin is the place to be to see mammals both of land and sea. I'm not familiar with this richly-colored species, which was also at Five Brooks Pond. Anybody? RT? JK?  Christian and TaxMan helped with the ID - this is a Sonoma Chipmunk.

I am used to seeing Pacific Wrens at sea level, though I pretty much never get to photograph them. 

This bird was singing from an exposed perch, with no apparent urge to hide as usual. Thank you Pacific Wren.

One day, Billy, Annabelle and I headed to the Santa Cruz coast to see a Scissor-tailed Flycatcher. We failed in this endeavor, and were forced to look at this pair of nesting Western Gulls instead. Not unexpected, but still unfortunate.

One of the big upsides to moving south from Albany to San Jose is that now I'm much closer to Don Edwards National Wildlife Refuge, a great place for shorebirds and waterbirds in general. This Forster's Tern, which breed there, was in the midst of a display flight. Don Edwards National Wildlife Refuge, Alviso, CA.

And this Forster's Tern had a wiggly cap.

I've pointed it out a couple times before, but it bears repeating...Forster's can have a gray wash on the underparts, like Commons, which is visible on all three of the above individuals.

Crushing terns brings me great joy.

This is one of my favorite FOTE shots I've ever taken, and I've taken a great many. I rarely get head-on shots with perf composure and focus, not to mention lighting.

These terns were discretely having some sex. Other birds were not so discrete that day.

Caspian Terns breed at the refuge as well. I think it is safe to assume that all the birds foraging behind my house (in the Los Capitancillos Ponds) all summer were commuting to and from nests here at the refuge - it's cool to see the home base of my backyard fish fiends.

These exhibitionist avocets decided to get down to some avosex right next to the trail.

This is how avocets are made.

The cloacal kiss!

The avocet version of a post-coital cuddle.

Black-necked Stilts were hanging around, doing it in the open as well.

Crossing bills and a wing-cuddle while copulating? I don't think PDA can go much further than that.

The male dismounted when finished but continued with the kissing and cuddling. Gross.

Thankfully, their display of raw stilt hedonism came to an end and we could all part ways without making eye contact. 

There were a few local rarities around on this morning as well, the best of which was this lingering Glaucous Gull. After going years without seeing any, I've seen them in three different counties so far this year. And so it goes...

A Savannah Sparrow, one of the local breeders, teed up briefly next to the trail. I would say more about it, but if I am being completely honest with you...I need more coffee.

Outer Point Migrage

By the second weekend of October, the fall of 2016 had already been a good one...year birds in the right year, county birds in the right counties, acceptable numbers of migrants around, a state nemesis had been vanquished (Northern Gannet), I found a solid Siberian vague runt at my patch (Bar-tailed Godwit), and had a Sibe *MEGA* give good looks (Dusky Warbler)...if I had to quit birding right then for the rest of 2016 it would have been a pretty good year...but why the fuck would I do that? So I tried to bird someplace else besides SF or Point Reyes, but all I had to show for it...literally...was this Ridgway's Rail at Arrowhead Marsh. I'll take it.

The day after was forecast for decent weather, so I predictably went back out to the Outer Point...it's hard not to be there in October. As I rode a bristling caffeine high past Drake's Estero, a wall of fog appeared just west of the RCA patch, so I turned around to bird RCA in hopes that the fog would lift in the meantime. Hermit Warbler and Lark Sparrow were nice birds, and a couple ultra-confiding Hutton's Vireos dropped down to forage beside me.

This young male Anna's Hummingbird was holding down a flowering shrub next to my car, so I gave it a quick but punishing crush.

A couple miles down the road I got stuck in a birder traffic jam, but that worked out well because I may have just blown by the flock of 20 Greater White-fronts that were grazing next to the road. It's a nice bird to run into on the coast, as most of the big migrant flocks are just flyovers and don't put down too often.

Much of birding the Outer Point, probably 40%, consists of looking at White-crowned Sparrows and hoping that they are not White-crowned Sparrows. This was just a White-crowned Sparrow, so I crushed it and tried to move on with my life. Crush, move on, crush, get on with it...such is the rhythm of birding some days.

I walked over to one of my favorite micro-spots, where I am guaranteed to see nothing but White-crowned Sparrows, but for once there was something I didn't expect at the Zonotrichia stronghold. Here is a Western Bluebird-Tropical Kingbird combo for Caroline, Frank, and Jen. Dan, this would be for you too, but I know how much you hate combos.

Ah, a nice refreshing Mexican rarity. This was a good sign, but there turned out to be little else at the lighthouse (a few getting-late Violet-green Swallows) and Fish Docks was dead.

Using some of the Global Birder Ranking System's data collection tools (I have access to those, being #7 in the U.S.), it is obvious that there has been a statistically significant uptick in the last couple years of West Coast birders thinking they might have a Couch's Kingbird, not a Tropical. While Constant Vigilance is always good, birders should not let themselves get too worked up...Tropical Kingbirds are an expected fall migrant, albeit not a common one. There is no reason to suspect Couch's unless the bird really sounds or looks like one.

Fun with Tropical Kingbird cropping.

The Fish Docks are haunted by the ghosts of many Vague Runts that have dropped in over the years seeking food and shelter. On this day, migrants were few and rarities only lurked through the cypresses in spirit. A Say's Phoebe ominously watched over the birders making the rounds.

My traditionally horrible luck at Nunes was reversed when some other birders got me on this Black-and-white Warbler. Though Black-and-whites are a low-level rarity in much of the state, on Point Reyes they are seen much less frequently than other "eastern" warblers like Blackpoll, Chestnut-sided, Palm, etc. Considering this was a county bird and a far better looking bird than most other fall migrants, I had a nice mellow birdbuzz going after spending time with this bird.

The real avian highlight of the day though was the Tree Swallows. Yep, I'm going with Tree Swallow as Bird of The Day over Tropical Kingbird and Black-and-white Warbler. By early afternoon there were Tree Swallows pretty much everywhere you looked - while this is normal for some places in the east during fall migration, this is not the case in the bay area...it can be rather difficult to actually get to see a bunch of passerines migrating. Migration (landbirds) is just so much less visible here than on the eastern half of the continent, it's difficult to detect birds coming and going, especially large concentrations of them. I walked around in the middle of a huge feeding flock of swallows at Spaletta Plateau, it was a lot of fun.

One of the reasons I had even been out on the point on this day (aside from the obviously great time of year) was because the winds had been forecast to shift during the morning to the south, and south winds takes rare birds out of the sky and put them on the ground. The Black-and-white Warbler may have dropped in for this very reason. The prevailing winds here are out of the northwest, but for the entire following week we had south winds, and the coast was getting absolutely pummeled with rarities. It was hard to withstand...I was stuck in an office gnawing my lower lip to bloody shreds while rare shit just seemed to be raining down everywhere. Luckily, those south winds also brought some rain at the end of the week, which prevented some of these vague runts from continuing their migrations and allowed me to see a Yellow-green Vireo and Black-throated Blue Warbler out at the Fish Docks the following Saturday. Shit conditions and no photos, but those were some damn good birds. Yellow-green Vireos are not even Bird Police birds in California anymore, but I hadn't seen one anywhere since 2010 so I was stoked. And who knows when I will see those two species in the same place again...talk about a good combo.

South winds...how I long for your gentle, overcast touch. Until next fall.