Good Times, Bad Times, Weird Times: 2020 In The 5 Mile Radius

From 2017-2019, I had seen but only a single Snow Goose in the now legendary Rancho de Bastardos Five Mile Radius. In the fall of 2020 I saw three! All maximum tame and slumming it with breadline Canada Geese. This one was at Hellyer County Park.

Ah, an old-fashioned annual end of the year round up post! Ok it's not exactly on time but what do you expect these days? Life is pain and blogging is hard.

Well, it seems like it has always been fashionable for some people to publicly bitch about each year as it comes to a close...it's the one time of year it is cool to publicly whinge about what a rough go of it you've had on social media, instead of just trying to convince everybody how fucking brilliant your life  is. I'm sure sometimes that is totally valid (it's not like tragedy and suffering, or fear and loathing, is limited to 2020), but in retrospect most of that seems pretty wimpy compared to the gargantuan cluster that was last year. This really is the time that I'm just relieved to have a year be over with, but at the same time I don't kid myself about how quickly 2021 will right the ship. One could say the short term prognosis is rather...bleak.

***UPDATE: All of the above was written before the storming of the capitol by obsequious far right Trump worshippers/fucking insane conspiracy theorists/human garbage white supremacists...oh yeah and our old friend 'Rona is going stronger than ever before. So 2021 is exactly like 2020 so far, what a surprise.

Anyways, birds. It's a cliche at this point, but I think I need to say that birding really has helped with getting through 2020. I must bird, but it was crucial in 2020. Obviously, I ended up birding a ton in my 5MR, as 5MR birding is even more suited to pandemic era birding than it was before. I was not doing any sort of concerted year listing, as 2019 was more or less a 5MR big year and I had no interest in putting in that amount of effort again, but 2020 ended up being a great year for my radius. I picked up 17 new 5MR birds, 4 of which I detected only from my yard and nowhere else! This also involved an absolutely torrid stretch where I got 9 new 5MR birds in about 5 weeks. So despite going without chasing a number of birds and dispensing with a lot of target birding, I finished with 185 species...only 2 off my my 2019 mark, when I was feverishly birding the radius in comparison. I am very satisfied.

Alright, we can move on - contrary to what almost most birders will tell you, I'm acutely aware that list numbers are rarely interesting to anyone besides their keepers. In this post I'll mostly focus on birding highlights from the second half of the year, since I've done such a shameful job of blogging lately and that's when a lot of the best birds appeared.

After a slow start to the year, the quality of 5MR birding seemed to really pick up in April. The vague runt highlight (and new radius bird for me) of the spring my grunts was undoubtedly a Northern Parula, but my favorite spring bird was this Calliope Hummingbird I found at a nearby Echium patch. I had sustained and satisfying long looks very close up, which I can't say I've had many of when it comes to adult males. Photographed at the Santa Clara Water District headquarters.

Though not a regional meguh, few birds in my yard have caused me the sort of distress that this Yellow-headed Blackbird did upon first seeing it. A 5MR/yard bird twofer, I was amazed that this thing was frequenting my backyard, particularly in July, a month known for poor lowland birding if you don't count shorebirds. There's nothing like getting some shock and awe in your very own backyard.

One perk of 2020 that came with living in the bay area was the MEGAFIRES. I was lucky enough to not have to worry about losing my home, but the smoke...it was astounding how bad the smoke was on some days. This Pygmy Nuthatch probably lost its home in the Santa Cruz Mountains to the CZU Lightning Fire and took advantage of my feeding station for a day - though the circumstances were a bummer, this was not a species I anticipated getting in the radius, let alone my yard.

This fall was my fourth here in Santa Clara County, and it was by far the best as far as rarities are concerned in my 5MR. Vasona Lake County Park was the place to be - it started with a Northern Waterthrush, which was a county bird for me. I then found another one in the same spot weeks later. Soon after that I found this shadowy Blackpoll Warbler above, a new radius bird. Then that same day some other birders and photographers found a Bay-breasted Warbler (FIRST COUNTY RECORD) while trying to track down the Blackpoll.

A first county record, right in my very own radius! You gotta love that, and I did enjoy some views of this bird on a couple different days. Bay-breasteds are quite rare in the state, although of course some of the more vagrant-wealthy counties seem to entrap them with some regularity. This is only the third I have ever seen in California. Birders flogging the area shrubbery also turned up an American Redstart, which I also chased successfully for a new 5MR bird. I dipped multiple times on a Nashville Warbler here, but there are worse things to dip on.

While the fall of 2020 was great for Brewer's and Clay-colored Sparrows in much of the state, we in Santa Clara did not get very many of the latter. I was happy to find this one at Vasona, one of three individuals seen in the county last year and the only one in my radius.

Lawrence's Goldfinches are not difficult to find in certain spots in Santa Clara County, but this isn't a species I considered fait accompli in the 5MR; they have an affinity for pretty "wild", undeveloped areas here that don't happen to fall close to home. So on that tinkling note, I was surprised when one was found at a random, seemingly unbirded park in my radius this fall in the middle of a vast sea of suburbs. I'll take it - this is one of my favorite species in California, so getting long looks at one here is an especially fulfilling radial victory.

Last fall was a big one for uncommon and rare sparrows in much of California. I happily chased a Vesper Sparrow at Don Edwards NWR as a county bird...then chased another at Vasona Lake County Park, which was a new 5MR bird and the first ever eBirded from within my radius. Shortly afterward I found my own Vesper Sparrow at a local park which almost no one birds, so I was really happy to turn something up there. It really captured the spirit of 5MR birding I reckon. Photographed at Martial Cottle County Park.

Northern Pintail is a classic species that is very common at a number of sites in my county but incredibly hard to find in my radius. A small group I found last fall were only my second personal record here, where I do a bit better with diving ducks than I do with dabblers. Photographed at the Los Capitancillos Ponds.

This is old news to everyone on the west coast, but this has been an epic year for Pine Siskins in my radius and seemingly everywhere else. Previously it was a special occasion to look out the back door and see one in the yard, but now it's an everyday occurrence. A "green" siskin (bottom photo, upside down on right) is not an everyday occurrence though, so that was a welcome feeder guest. I had not seen one in years. Photographed at Rancho de Bastardos.

The last new addition to the radius was this Green-tailed Towhee, which was also a county bird. It mostly feeds out in the open in an orchard with a Zonotrichia flock, a very un-GTTO setting. When I saw it, it was somewhat distant but super cooperative. Even though I've been birding the bay area for a long time this was the first I've seen in any of the regional counties. Photographed on the Calero Creek Trail.

I could totally pad this post with some more fun birds, including common ones, but I gotta get it out there at some point. Again, sorry for the lack of posts last year, it really does bring me angst. Follow me on Instagram @feloniousjive if you're into stuff like that, I try to post birdses on there more regularly. I'd like to wish you all a happy 2021, but I think that ship has sailed! So go forth and bird your radius, and if your radius is not that great, bird your county! Those lurking local vagues aren't going to find themselves.

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.

2016's Biggest Misses

I saw many species of birds in 2016, but Common Eider was not one of them. Not birding within a species' normal range tends to lead to stuff like that happening. Though I mourned the absence of this eider in my life last year, and grieved for the eiders I have never seen, this was not a species I had any expectations for in 2016. Despite myself I had a whole lot of other expectations around some other birds, which didn't always pan out. Photographed in Biddeford, ME.

Full disclosure...I like keeping year lists. I'm not a county birding fiend (well...in most counties), so while many birders use county listing as a form of twisted, embarrassing motivation to get them out and about, I will occasionally sip the nectar from my inner year listing well and use that as birding fuel. I've only done one Big Year of any sort ever, when I set the Ventura County record as a teenager...the record was obliterated the following year but it was fun at the time and (unusually for a birder) I was not at all butthurt about losing my place at the top when my record fell. It would be fun to do again someday, someplace, though the thought of doing it on an ABA scale leaves a bad taste in my mouth, and causes my testicles to retreat into my body.

But we are not here to talk about big years, at least not today, just year birding. I am lucky enough to have done a lot of birding in Y2K16. I did exceedingly well in the rare bird department in California, even finding a couple highly sought-after birds myself, got some summer birding done in Colorado (awesome), and completed wildly successful nerd trips to West Mexico and Puerto Rico. As far as I know, in only one or two other years have I ever seen more birds.

But instead of humblebragging about all that shit, I thought I would run through the most surprising and most torturous birds I could not find last year. There were some truly painful misses, and a number of species I really thought I would just run into somehow never materialized. So in no particular order, here are some birds that gave me the slip and/or finger in Y2K16.

White-winged Scoter. I really, truly thought I would see these more than once, but it just never happened. I spent quite a bit of time birding the right places, but they just never appeared. How embarrassing. This is an uncommon and somewhat local species in the state, and the subspecies we get here on the west coast is known to be in decline. Photographed at the San Leando Marina, San Leandro, CA.

Collared Plover. What is the deal with Collared Plover? I've never seen one, so I wouldn't know. Despite immersing ourselves in great coastal shorebird habitat and putting a great many hours toward trying to find this fucking bird, we had no glory. I am excellent at not seeing Collared Plovers, both in Costa Rica and Mexico. I expect I am just as adept at avoiding them in other countries. If you do not want to have to look at a Collared Plover, come hang out with me. To make my drawn-out discomfort with this bird even worse, Dipper Dan recently reminded me that he saw Collared Plover in Costa Rica, while on a trip with me, presumably while I was passed out in the car with food poisoning. Great.

Prairie Falcon. I missed Prairie Falcons and I miss Prairie Falcons. This is a very good bird along the coast (where I usually bird) but I thought I would get them in Colorado or the Mono Lake area. Napes. Maybe I need to bird the Central Valley more often. Photographed on the Carrizo Plain, California, where they are very dependable.

Glaucous Gull. While a definite rarity in the state, they are not terribly hard to see or find yourself if you look at gull flocks enough...at least that's what I used to think. Not only did I not see a Glaucous Gull in 2016, I have somehow not seen one since 2012. I have no idea how I have accomplished this incredible feat. This bird is turning into a sort of nemesis for me somehow, and I've still never seen an adult.

Masked Duck. What the fuck does a guy have to do to see a Masked Duck? Sell my soul to the devil? At this rate, that actually seems like a very reasonable proposition. While I assumed we would miss them in Nayarit/Jalisco/Colima (relatively rare there), we had a great chance to get them in Puerto Rico...that is until Officer Searcy assured Dipper Dan and I that we would see one. That predictably fucked everything up, and I continue on course to go to my grave without ever seeing one.

Red-breasted Chat. This is my new Mexican nemesis bird, and I don't say that lightly. I believe everyone who went on the trip got to see one except me...actually that's a lie. I saw one, but it was such a shit look I won't even consider counting this very unique and utterly crippling bird. At least, they seem utterly crippling in photographs, I wouldn't really know since I haven't seen one in real life. Nerds saw them at multiple sites while in Mexico but I just could not ever get on one. I blocked out the pain for a while but I can still feel it in the depths of my nerdbrain. Photographed by Dipper Dan at Microondas San Francisco, Jalisco, Mexico.

Amethyst-throated Hummingbird. As I've said before, getting our hummingbird targets in Mexico was very frustrating. Even more frustrating was other nerds in the group lifering this bird, which I sorely wanted to see. At least I can say I was busy getting my face melted off by one of the best mixed flocks in my life while they were on the hummingbirds. Mixed flock aside, I saw what were likely multiple individuals of this species zooming by, but never got the conclusive looks everyone else had. Butt. Hurt. Other dishonorable misses on the trip, aside from hummingbirds, include Banded Quail, Greater Swallow-tailed Swift, Thick-billed Parrot, Mangrove Vireo, Aztec Thrush and Colima Warbler. Not that those are necessarily easy birds, but they all would have changed my life forever. Well, maybe not the vireo...

Sandhill Crane and Tundra Swan. These are both common in the Central Valley in winter. These are both species that birders really get off on seeing, and I am not above that. They are both steeped in majesty and make sounds that make you feel good inside. Does it really take a Falcated Duck for me to get deep into the valley? Apparently so. I had to dig deep into the archives for a passable crane shot...this is from Camas National Wildlife Refuge in Idaho, in the spring of 2011.

Blackpoll Warbler. There is perhaps no better place west of Texas to see this bird than Point Reyes (where in the past I have seen six in one day), which I birded a lot last fall. In fact, I birded the point better and harder and more than any other year. For whatever reason there just weren't many in the bay area last fall. This was a bit of a freakish miss, but those things happen. Photographed at Point Reyes, CA.

Hawaiian Petrel. Another potential lifer that has abstained from lifering with me. Ever since seeing a couple Mottled Petrels (and even those were seen poorly/all too briefly) while cruising through the Aleutians in 2010, I have been on a solid petrel shut out. I have put in a lot of boat hours since then and have still never (fully) connected with this bird. During a chaotic episode on a boat last fall I was both utterly convinced I saw one and utterly convinced that I did not see one. Now...I just don't know, but I sure as shit do not have identifiable pictures of one from that day, so this remains a species I need to see, very badly.

Other standout misses from 2016 include Flesh-footed Shearwater. Harlequin Duck, Pectoral Sandpiper, Black-legged Kittiwake, Short-eared Owl, Lewis's Woodpecker and California Thrasher.

I have no idea what 2017 will bring as far as birding goes...I have no trips planned at all, and I compulsively am almost always planning birding trips. Hell, I might not even get 300 species this year, a number I've not failed to meet in a long time...a long time. Being a bird junkie and a new father will be an interesting juggling act, as most people are under the impression that addicts and junkies typically aren't the best parents. But whatever happens, make no mistake...there will be birds, though my "worst misses of 2017" post might be more embarrassing than this one*.

* = I haven't seen Great Blue Heron yet...time to panic????

The Purplepole Warbler

Look at this. Do you see? This is from a bird book. I really don't want to associate Blackpoll Warblers with such graphic imagery...that's just fucked. How is this a published thing? Do you not see what I'm talking about?  Here, let me show you.

Yeah. That's a big, raging, (apparently circumcised) purple boner, complete with arrows that demonstrate migration...the migration of HUMAN SPERM. Just look at this thing. I'm surprised they didn't draw some big veins in there too. I knew there was something odd about this bird guide....and that something is a big...gnarly...weiner.

There are a limited number of situations that can explain how this thing came to be published for an audience of one of the most sexless subcultures in the world...either it is a perfectly crafted inside joke by whoever did the maps (if so, good on ya), or no one involved with getting this book out had the ability to recognize the most glaring phallus possible. Knowing birders, I reckon the latter situation is more likely.

So...any publishing companies want me to review a book? It's been a while.

A fall Blackpoll Warbler is a good thing. A pure thing. I really like them, despite the fact they are barely a rare bird here in autumn. I do not want my mental image of them to be polluted by massive, discolored erections. The only DICK I am excited about seeing in a field guide is a Dickcissel, know what I'm saying? Zing! Thanks to Natarie for providing the bird porn for this post.

Point Reyes: Blackbird Hype, Vague Runts, Vireo Discomfort

"I've been very uncomfortable with my vireos" is a line uttered often among California birders...and who can blame them? Birders misidentify them on the regular. Hell, someone just erroneously claimed a Red-eyed Vireo the other day down in Santa Barbara, and was forced (by the Bird Police, no doubt) to make a very public and very bulky apology. Shortly afterward, another Santa Barbara birder posted photos of a "Yellow-green Vireo" that was clearly a Warbling Vireo. Classic. Luckily this Philadelphia Vireo was identified with prowess and was easily the Bird of The Day.

Ahhh, fall. It's been a good one. Vague Runts abound, and My Grunts have been plentiful. Of course, if you live in the bay area, it is to Point Reyes you must go in September and October (and even November). As the San Francisco Giants thrive in October (even years), Vague Runts thrive in the cypress patches of the outer point in autumn. And so three nerds, in a storm of spoonerisms (delta smelt=smelta delt) and bad Star Wars jokes, recently birded the point. It was not one of those days that become birding legend, but it was a good day...although the Cape Mays stung a bit.  We dipped on not one but two Cape May Warblers, which I feel is an impressive feat. Luckily, Philadelphia Vireo made everything better...as did Chestnut-sided Warbler, 41 Black-vented Shearwaters, and the birds you will see below.

I know it's not a crush, and for that I apologize. But I am very comfortable with my vireos. I really like Philadelphia Vireos, and have been lucky to see a lot of them. They are the cutest vireo, after all, and have cerulean legs for style points.

I decided that I would start making an effort to photograph Tricolored Blackbirds this year. Here is a female. Look how horrifically drab and wonderful she is.

Unlike Philadelphia Vireos, I can understand that this is a tough bird to identify, but with some practice it can be done without inducing . She has no warm tones in her plumage and little contrast anywhere. 

As I have mentioned in the past, Point Reyes has hella Tricolored Blackbirds. This flock is pretty much all Tricolored. If you are in the bay area in the fall and want to meet this bird, head out to the point or Moonglow Dairy in Monterey County. You will be rewarded, although some birding pundits claim they are overrated.

You show me a cow, and I will show you a Tricolored Blackbird. This was a fun pile of birds, despite their critics. They whole heap of them sound like a cacophany of Red-wingeds with pneumonia.

On this day, there were Blackpoll Warblers galore. We had 6 that day, which is by far my best one day total for the species in California. Other than Yellow Warblers, it was the most abundant warbler species that day. Isn't that fucked up? Birding is weird.

Mmmmmmmmmmm eastern drabness.

Here's a different one. They're not flashy this time of year, but they are Good, in the moral sense of the word.

Have I even posted Barn Owl pictures on BB&B before? If I haven't, it's not for lack of interest. They may be common but they are one of the best-looking owls.

Oh that's right...a Barn Owl has graced our hallowed halls before. In fact, it is one of the best Barn Owl pictures I have ever seen...feel free to take a look at the carnage.

According to one birder, this White-winged Dove I found flying past the Fish Docks parking lot was the best bird of the day out on the point, especially in comparison to Cape May Warblers. I heartily disagree with this viewpoint; having seen both species on the point in the past, I can objectively say that I would gladly look at 500 Cape May Warblers before I looked at another freaking White-winged Dove, anywhere. 

Being the #7 U.S. birder, it is important to strike a balance between vagrant-lust and robin-stroking...but no one should ever overdo the robin-stroking. Here is a Double-crested Cormorant. I like it's cankles. I will say nothing more.

Officer Searcy treasures nature. Look at the looking. The treasuring.

Officer Searcy gets credit for finding this creature. He identified it by screaming and pointing "VOLE! VOLE! VOLE!". Obviously it is not a vole, but I didn't have the heart to tell him. He had just gotten off the Farallones, where people tend to forget things about the mainland. He also misidentified a deer. That's why he is not in the Mammal Police.