BB&B Returns to Arizona

It was June. The birder's summer had officially begun. With my spring in Texas in the history books, it was time to make my way back to the west coast....where people ate burritos, and no one craved fajitas. Where you could get good coffee in a town smaller than Austin. Where Mexicans were not controversial. Where the governor was a typical old, wrinkly white guy and not some smug dumbass who lives on nothing but the blood of minority children and omelettes made out of Golden-cheeked Warbler eggs. After doing some birding with This Machine's crew (and seeing Black-capped Vireos, holy shit!), I left Nate's apartment and set out west through Hill Country. I barged all the way though to Las Cruces, spent the night, and by early the next afternoon I was back on familiar turf...cruising south down Highway 90, the Huachuca Mountains loomed ahead of me. Despite arriving in the middle of the day (which I do not recommend for <#7 birders), I had high expectations.

A few years ago I lived and worked in southeast Arizona for a spring doing point counts, with field sites from Sonoita Creek to Mt. Lemmon, from Carr Canyon to the Santa Cruz River. We had lodging in Ramsey Canyon and Florida Canyon, where a Ring-tailed Cat lived in our attic (I shit you not) and the only Rufous-capped Warbler in the country was just a short walk upstream. It was great birding (shocker), but despite my local residency and numerous other trips to the sky islands, I had yet to cross paths with a couple of specialties.

One of my few remaining nemesis birds in southeast Arizona was Mexican Spotted Owl. Although I did hear one in Carr Canyon one morning, I've had pathetic luck with them in Miller Canyon over the years. The Miller Canyon Spotted Owls are probably the most famous pair of their subspecies, frequently roosting within site of a trail and growing quite accustomed to people. They've been there for as long as I can remember. Since Miller Canyon gets covered very well by birders, people seem to constantly be keeping tabs on them. Well, that hasn't stopped me from walking by them countless times without ever seeing them. As you can see, this trip would be different.

Having been given the nest location by a few other birders, I had a very good idea of where to look this time. However, I hadn't even begun to start looking for the nest when I heard that wonderful sound...hoo......hoo-hoo.....HOOO. An adult was calling in the middle of the fucking day. Just ahead of me on the trail I heard another sound I hadn't heard in years.....cooooo-weep! As I walked ahead, toward the second bird, I could hear the begging calls of the owlets. I was close.

But before I got to the nest site, I was shocked to look up and see the adult that had been "coo-weeping" next to the trail. It was in full not-giving-a-fuck mode, leisurely preening, stretching and dozing. The owl hardly even looked at me. I got such a good look at the bird that I didn't even bother looking for the nest, which I knew was notoriously hard to see anyways. Eventually, I left the owl on the same perch that I found it and headed back down canyon. My heart was on the verge of bursting with joy.

Some of the coolest bird feet I've ever seen.

Located at the end of the road in Miller Canyon, the Beatty's place is one of the most legendary geri-birding sites in the U.S. It is the place to go for White-eared Hummingbird, arguably the most facemelting Trochilid that regularly ventures north of Mexico. They are very reliable in late spring and summer at the Beatty's, and despite the considerable time I've spent in southeast Arizona, I have yet to see one elsewhere. All you have to do to see one is wait, as they are not particularly shy and there is frequently more than one individual coming to the feeders.

Do you see? Pretty snaz.

I don't see White-eared Hummingbirds often, but when I do, I prefer to look up one of their nostrils.

Broad-tailed Hummingbird doesn't make it onto BB&B very often, so we will go ahead and address that right now. Those fine rows of spots on the throat (without a central patch) is quite distinctive on females, and you can just make out that particular shade of blue-green on the crown and nape that is a bit different from other Selasphorus.

A male Black-chinned Hummingbird with a gnarly bill deformity. He looks like he's doing ok though.

Of course, the Beatty's is a great place to see numbers of Magnificent Hummingbird also. Blue-throateds are around sometimes, but the Chiricahuas are your best bet for those beasts.

After I wrapped things up in Miller Canyon, it was time to fall even deeper into geri-birding mode and visit the Ash Canyon B&B, which is the best place in Arizona (and the U.S.?) for Lucifer Hummingbird. This Clark's Spiny Lizard was out strutting it's rather impressive stuff under a feeder, swelling up its body and flaring out it's blazing dewlap.

He was trying to intimidate a rival male...it was a tense standoff, and we humans were lucky we didn't get hurt. Clark's Spiny Lizards can be identified by their incomplete black collar and the barring on the forelimb.

Expect more Arizona coverage in another post. Good luck with your Monday.

Arizona Abides

Black-chinned Hummingbird is a sort of bland species, unless you catch them in jussssssssssst the right light. Florida Canyon.

Back when nobody read this awful waste of cyberspace, I was living in Southeast Arizona...while many think of this area of the country as a cultural wasteland and racist snakepit, most of you reading this know it as Birder's Mecca, due to it's vast array of desert and Mexican species that pour over the border in that corner of Los Estados Unidos. While Mexicans of the human persuasion find themselves being controversial in the region, everyone embraces the avian Mexicans. Birders spend insane amounts of money in the area and travel from far and wide to see these birds, after all. When I was offered a seasonal job to study migrating songbirds there, I jumped at the chance. I made my first trip to the area way back in 1998, and have been drawn to the place ever since.

For much of the time of my work stint we stayed at the research station Florida Canyon, where birds like Black-capped Gnatcatcher and Rufous-capped Warbler lived within walking distance, and a Ring-tailed Cat lived in our attic. Yes, it was the best roommate ever, thank you very much. Our survey sites were, not coincidentally, some of the best birding spots in the area...Miller Canyon, Carr Peak, Madera Canyon, the Nature Conservancy's Patagonia reserve....you get the picture. One gets to feel a bit smug to essentially just go birdwatching in areas people pay large sums of money just to get to. Part of the charm of the area (granted, this is arguable) is the vast numbers of birders you will meet, and the number of homes and yards that have been opened up to birders simply so we can stare at the birdfeeders...I thought it was quite funny to be doing a point count next to the Patons' legendary backyard, counting Violet-crowned Hummingbirds for SCIENCE!

Oh yeah, I just noticed that all these pictures are of birds that are relatively early migrants, and should all be "in" by the end of the month...care to meet them? They will be there.

Props to Jeremy at AZ Birdbrain and Laurence at Butlers Birds And Things for keeping the Birdosphere posted on what's happening down Arizona way.

Southeast Arizona features a strange mix of birds that live by the Economy of Style, such as this Lucy's Warbler, and unholy looking rainbow-creatures like trogons and Varied Buntings. Santa Cruz River.

Rufous Hummingbird. We put up several feeders up while living at our cabin, and drew in Magnificent, Violet-crowned, Anna's, Rufous, Calliope, Broad-tailed, Broad-billed, Black-chinned and Costa's Hummingbirds. Too bad we couldn't stay longer that mid May, who knows what other Mexican goodness we could have attracted? Florida Canyon.

Most birders looking for their lifer Common Black-Hawk make treks to sites north of Tucson, but I saw quite a few on the Santa Cruz River (Tubac area)...most were migrants, but I think they do nest there as well.

Hammond's Flycatcher is one of the many Empidonax that frequent the area, much to the chagrin of Tyrannid-challenged folk. Patagonia (I think).

The view from atop Mount Lemmon. A lot of birding spots are going to have forests that look more like this this year, as a result of last year's raging wildfires. And if you are wondering, no, migrants don't find snowbound burnt-out forests very appealing.

One of the state's celebrity birds is this Rufous-capped Warbler, one of 2 birds that are more often than not hanging out in Florida Canyon for several years in a row. These are usually the only known individuals residing north of Mexico.

Violet-crowned Hummingbirds live up to their name, at least in the right light. Birders usually go to Patagonia to see Violet-crowns (as they should), so I felt lucky to get this as a yard bird in Florida Canyon. By the way, for those not savy, the work station in the canyon is definitely OFF LIMITS to birders...stay away or a man who goes by "Greg" will have to come out and keep it real with you.

Rufous-crowned Sparrow is one of those weird species where you may have to go to great pains to see one, but once in a while they just won't leave you alone. Greaterville Road, Coronado National Forest.

Looking eastward towards the northern Santa Rita Mountains. Look at that wash! It's got some nice birds in it.

Not the best image, but I had to throw in a gratuitous Vermilion Flycatcher. I still remember the first time I saw these birds, and still carry the scars to show for it...yes, my face is partially melted off now.

Passion Unabated Will Be Readily Conflated

Black-chinned and Broad-billed (the strange glowing thing in the background) Hummingbirds. Florida Canyon, AZ.

My indigent lackies who slave away in the BB&B basement have finally come up with a topic that we have not touched on yet: feeding wildlife. Ok. Lets take a look at it.

People feed wildlife all the time. There are probably millions of bird feeders all around the world. At city parks and waterfronts everywhere people feed ducks, geese, swans, gulls, squirrels....even monkeys in some places. This has been going on for a long, long time, and it's not going to stop anytime soon. Then of course there are the myriad rodents, possums, skunks, raccoons, bears, etc. that also fill up on what the other animals don't eat, usually at night.

The standard opinion amongst American wildlife biologists is that no wildlife should be fed by people at any time except for in the most extreme circumstances, such as when they are trying to stabilize or boost the population of an endangered species (a la giving carcasses to California Condors). Why the extreme view? Potentially, wildlife can become habituated to humans (which potentially puts them more at risk to injury or death by various dumbasses, dogs off leash, etc) and view them as a source of food (human food lacks a lot of the nutrition wild animals need). When they congregate in large masses (i.e. at bird feeders), this puts them at risk for spreading of disease, which indeed does happen at unkempt feeding stations. And if wildlife change their habits to exploit certain food sources (i.e. stay in an exposed, snowy, freezing place instead of going someplace warm), then that can just lead to them dying. Perhaps the most obvious example of this conflict is the classic Yogi Bear situation, in which potentially large and dangerous animals learn to associate people with food. A friend of mine actually lost a loved one due to something like this happening....so this is no joke. So not only is this not good for people, it's bad for the animals, because the ones that get a little too comforatable with people either end up shot or getting relocated, which is not necessarily that much better.

There are many more reasons to not feed animals, but I don't want to bore you, especially if ya'll know this already. As an exception, I have met relatively few people who are against the standard backyard birdfeeder scenario, as there is scant evidence to support the ideas that feeders will stop birds from migrating or switching to healthier food sources when it comes time to lay eggs and raise some chickies. Feeding birds is also extremely Quaint, and its really hard to publically come out against something that gives both you, your grandmother and your children a source of joy.

California (?) Ground-Squirrels. No food was dispensed in the making of these images. Morro Bay, CA.

Got it? Good. FEEDING WILDLIFE BAD. Now, as you may have anticipated, I have a slightly different take on all of this. For one, there are certainly situations in which feeding wildlife (and just littering, although its sad that I need to state that) can be extremely detrimental. I need not mention Yogi and friends. But take Humboldt County for instance. On Clam Beach, there is a population of Snowy Plovers that nest there. This being a Threatened species in the state of California, is a big deal. So when you feed gulls, ravens (intentionally), foxes, skunks, raccoons and rats (unintentionally), you are encouraging more and more of these predators to come around, get fat, breed more, and eat more Snowy Plover eggs/chickies. This is bad. In the old redwood forests, feeding squirrels, ravens and jays can lead to the same thing happening to the embattled Marbled Murrelets that nest there. So boosting populations of these versatile and capable predators is most certainly a big problem that could have heavy implications.

On the other hand, I think it can be pretty harmless in some cases. Take these squirrels above. They live in the rip-rap at the edge of Morro Bay, and are completely habituated to people and take handouts on the regular. There are two reasons I think this is not a big deal. A) Countless people stop by and hang out with these things. A few birders thinking they are doing some great deed by resisting the urge to toss one a crumb will not change the situation at all. B) They're squirrels living in a tiny margin of rocks between the road and the ocean. It's a pretty crappy place to live. I highly doubt that these fat things, buoyed by some crazy mix of nutrition (a discarded 4LOKO, perhaps?), are prone to leap down in a bloodthirsty rage upon unsuspecting turnstones poking around in the barnacles. Its just not a big deal. Now I don't think feeding them is a good idea, but get real. It's not the end of the world. 

As an aside, I am 100% against the feeding of stray cats. Feeding them does not stop them from killing birds, and god knows how many other reptiles, amphibians and undeserving native rodents. Cats (feral and otherwise) kill MILLIONS of birds in the United States each year. Most biologists are on the same team on this one. There is a legendary story about someone I know beating a cat to death with a stick in front of a stunned, blue-haired Audubon group. Now I don't condone this in any way, and I don't know if I'm even capable of doing something like that (I actually like cats)....but it makes a good story.

An Arizona Woodpecker harmlessly hones in on some suet. Paradise, AZ.

I guess all I'm saying is, there are few issues that are completely black and white, especially within the scientific community. I remember when I was a little kid, some Western Scrub-Jays would raise a couple chicks every year and would always spend a couple months with their family hanging out with my family. I loved that shit. I'm almost getting misty-eyed just thinking about it. Anyways, after a while the jays knew the deal and we would know the deal, and pretty soon the birds would be hopping into our kitchen to see if we had any snacks (FYI raw, unsalted nuts are not bad jay food). This had quite the impact on an impressionable young Steve. Now, getting on 20 years later, we still have jays that come sit in the same tree and yell at us to come outside. One is obliging enough to sit on your hand to grab a peanut. Call me sentimental, but I'd like to think they are the some of the same birds that we hosted so many years ago. Again, I don't recommend inviting wild animals into your kitchen, but perhaps this experience played a roll in me becoming the Uberbirder I am today.

If your child shows more interest in feeding your local park ducks than trying to kill them (which seems to be most kids who are capable of walking), then I say let  'em toss a cracker in to the lot. Live a litttle.

Have a weird Thanksgiving or Thanksfornothing (depending on where you are). I know I will.

Because Neil Armstrong Took His Banana Away

Look at this.  A basket of baby butcher birds.  They will grow up to slaughter livestock and slow-moving humans by the thousands, but now they make the word "cute" an insulting understatement.  Photo by Wandering Abyssmaltross/LOINS Inc.

My apologies, BB&B junkies, for avoiding The Issues lately.  I really have not had any time to do Nothing lately, which is crucial for me to be able to operate on all cylinders.  My life is a constant cycle of looking at birds, entering data, and sleeping....which means it is, on the whole, unglamorous and mildly embarrassing.  That doesnt leave me with a whole lot of time for much else......but not today.  Together, we will confront one of the big prejudices in the birding community that I must put up with on an almost daily basis here in southeast Arizona (known locally as The Land Of The Walking Dead).....that's right, I'm talking about Ageism.

Bridled Titmice are known for their compulsive tendency to dust things.

Let's face it.  Birdwatching is not a young person's "sport".  If it was, this blog wouldn't exist, and I would be rolling in expensive champagne and loose women.  I should not have to explain this any further, so I won't.   I think there are more people under 30 getting in on the avian action now then there were ten years ago, but we are still a tiny minority.  As a result, young people (myself included) have always been greatly encouraged by their elder associates, if only for the sake of recruitment purposes.  This, of course, is a positive thing.

A male Scott's Oriole ponders which contraption will yield the most delicious crud.

Another victim of The Grape Jelly.

The flip side of this is is that you old people, 8.3759 times out of 10, assume we are terrible birders.  It's a fact.  We are young, and thus inexperienced....right?  This perception is not unfounded sometimes, but I've been in the game for fifteen (15) years.  I have been birding since before I tasted sweet, sweet alcohol, before I had heard of punk rock, before I had sex.  So it would be an understatement to say that this is getting old, folks.  Nothing is more aggravating than passive-aggressive condescension, and hey, I'll be the first one to admit that I can't help if I do it myself sometimes.  "An Iceland Gull you say?  Hmmm.....those are pretty rare 'round these parts......".  We've all pulled this stunt.  But I have never done it because of someone's age, gender, race, or anything else fundamental about them that they cannot change.

One of the side effects of sugar addiction is forming a strange bond with the local dealer, as these Black-chinned Hummingbirds can attest to.

There are exceptions to the rule, of course, and I'm grateful for it.  But to the rest of the birding community....will you quit it?  Thanks.  The benefit of the doubt can go along way, particularly if you want to encourage kids to step completely out of what is normal for them and dive deep into the moist and murky world of birdwatching.

Right.  I'm about to head out to Organ Pipe National Monument for the night, then its down to Puerto Penasco, Mexico, for the next few days. Sick.

I Look At My Close Friends, They Wear Expressions Of Concern

Black-chinned Hummingbirds frequently lurk at our feeders.

Alaska tickets have been purchased.   Damn!  Life is crazy sometimes.  I just had to take a nap in order to grapple with this concept.  Over 3 months on Buldir Island......wow....this experience will make Midway look like a thriving metropolis in comparison.  Luckily for me and the four (4) other inhabitants of the island, the great ornithologist Felonious Jive will also be there to aid in the identification of any facemelting Siberian vagrants that may drop by.

This Flame-colored Tanager lives a few miles away as the hummingbird flies in Madera Canyon...I've seen him 4 years in a row now.  Like the Rufous-capped Warbler up the canyon here (which I did not see today), this is generally the only individual known to be in the United States at any given time.  He manages to encompass every shade of orange possible, and is a true crippler.

On the home front, I don't have much epic to report.  I finally saw my first Hammond's of the Flycatcher of the year this morning, a Hepatic Tanager was around earlier, and for some reason an Osprey landed in a nearby snag for a hot minute at dusk yesterday.  In grandiose fashion, I decided to name the pair of Magnificent Hummingbirds that come to our feeders, seeing as we see them just as often as the people who live up here and they have been around for a few weeks.  You'll learn about them later.  The crew is taking a 3 day trip to Puerto Penasco, Mexico in a couple weeks in order to bask in the sun with frigatebirds and boobies, and to remember what its like to have food poisoning.  My last Mexico trip left me in a wretched, painful state for over 2 weeks, and I was taught the valuable lesson that life is pain.

Part of a large kettle of Turkey Vultures that were looking to settle in for the night along the Santa Cruz River near Tubac.

I just realized that BB&B is quickly coming up on 200 posts, which is a milestone of sorts.  I think we have now established BB&B as an indelible figurehead of the blogosphere, a narcissistic and visceral monument to everything birds and their watchers do not stand for, and its all thanks to you.  Expect another interview from the Human Birdwatcher Project, more candid Birders As Art portraits, and possibly even a slight improvement in the photography....the birder pornography many of you have requested is, for good or ill, still only on the drawing board.  I am excepting submissions however.

The sign says it all.

Next week we will be working for six days, and I will be doing the last officially burly point count routes that I have not gotten around to yet.  Carr Peak, featured in the previous post, may be in competition with the Santa Ritas' Mount Wrightson (see photo above) in terms of snowy brutality, but at least we know there are birds up there now, so all is not lost.....

Shut The Door So I Can Leave

An epic Madera Canyon sunset was a solid crowd-pleaser.

Well.....it seems Ive made it. I write to you, late on a Saturday night, from the Hidden Valley Four Seasons Resort, a posh piece of property that I would normally have no business on, seeing that A) I am not of the Elite and B) I have no interest, of any kind, that would motivate me to be here even if I could afford it.....although the trap and skeet range does strike my on-again off-again fancy with firearms.

What am I doing here? Monday I start my new job with Bat Conservation International, whom I will be working for until the middle of October.....and for reasons that I have yet to fully understand, the field housing for the project is located exclusively at this resort. I'm holed up in this condo, complete with loft, fireplace, a big stack of firewood, and all the essential furniture items, kitchenware, etc. Aside from the food and alcohol situation (which really is a whole situation in and of itself.....I'll explain later), I'm completely self-contained.

The journey out here, of course, was far more interesting than the destination....so far. But there are a lot of pictures.....so many pictures......so in order to capture the nerdy spirit of the thing I will just post a bunch of nonhuman (Inhuman?) pictures from Southeast Arizona, one of the birding meccas of United States.



A Monsoonbow off of Hwy 19, north of Madera Canyon.



The resident male Flame-Colored Tanager outside Madera Kubo Cabins.



Gobble Gobble Gobble Gobble Gobble Gobble Gobble.....

I got to a bird around Southeast Arizona with a bunch of half-crazies, the stars of which were veterans from the 2007/2008 Imperial Valley Burrowing Owl seasons. It was a breezy experience, to say the least. Berylline Hummingbirds and Buff-breasted Flycatchers were both new to me.....and I think it is safe to say, at this juncture, that things will never be the same. To put it bluntly, southeastern Arizona is a facemelting place to look at birds, and can test you physically and mentally....I've found myself Out There, on that high, jagged edge, more than once over the years. The intense heat and rigorous schedule of trying to see as much as you can in just a few days can do a number on you......but nothing a little rattlesnake won't cure, you know what I'm sayin'?

I start work tomorrow out here in the PA, I'll let you know how it goes. Otherwise, I'll post some more All-American Goodness from The Road in the near future.......until then, hold it down!



A bloodthirsty Brown-crested Flycatcher delivers its defeated prey to its bloodthirstier nestlings in the power pole. Shortly after this picture was taken, the flycatcher pair were documented attempting to stuff a small child into a cavity.



Two or three White-eared Hummingbirds were holding down the feeders at Beatty's in Miller Canyon. A truly awesome creature.



A Berylline Hummingbird in the process of assembling a giant, chewbaccaesque figure. No one quite understands the reasons for this.



A bedazzling male Broad-billed Hummingbird.



A Black-chinned Hummingbird shows off its chin-bling.



Although not a good picture, I kind of like it. Beware the Hooded Oriole that attacks by lamplight.