Imperial Bellow, Old World Bellow, Imitation Rail Mellow

Of course, it wasn't always all about yardbirding for Seagull Steve. Believe it or not, he used to venture forth to look at birds outside of the friendly confines of his yard all the time. On this occasion, he walked by a flock of Snowy Plovers, a local and beloved species. Pilarcitos Creek Mouth, Half Moon Bay, CA.

Some color band combinations are easier to read than others. Spending time with the soothing plover flock here is always a nice consolation when walking back to your car after dipping on rare gulls, at least for Seagull Steve.

When Seagull Steve is birding here, it is typically a lowly, disgusting, gull-oriented endeavor. Here is a Herring Gull with Pillar Point in the background, which makes this image slightly less lowly and disgusting. Steve excels at not seeing rare gulls here; usually Slaty-backed, though Kelp also comes to mind.

Seagull Steve has to keep posting Thayer's Gulls while he still can! This might become an Iceland Gull next month.

After mild success at Pilarcitos, Seagull Steve ventured north to once again see the Emperor Goose wintering on the golf course at Sharp Park in Pacifica. The Emperor was still crippling and still seemed to be doing typical goose things, but not for long. "Rise, my friend," he bellowed to his dark and powerful protege, a nearby Common Raven.

Answering The Emperor's bellow, a Common Raven flew in to attack a nearby Canada Goose, much to The Emperor's delight. "Everything is proceeding as I have foreseen," said The Emperor, cackling with glee. "Your work here is finished, my friend. Go out to the municipal pier and await my orders."

However, not everything was going according to The Emperor's plan...the solemn leader of the Canada Goose Alliance told the other geese, "The Emperor has made a critical error and the time for our attack has come." With the raven distracted, the geese turned on The Emperor, sending him reeling.

And much like when Vader betrayed The Emperor in Return of the Jedi, the imposing Common Raven then joined the fray, taking wing to put an end to The Emperor once and for all.

The Emperor was unwise to lower his defenses.

But this is not Return of The Jedi, and The Emperor escaped unscathed. "Young fool...only now, at the end, do you understand." Fuck you Common Raven, and fuck you Canada Goose.

While it is appropriate to nurse grudges against the giant resident CANGs, there is no place for such feelings when CACGs are involved. Seagull Steve crushed this enthusiastically loafing Cackling Goose at Miller-Knox Regional Shoreline, in Richmond, CA.

This is also a dependable location for Eurasian Wigeons in winter. Female Eurasian Wigeons (right, with the head that does not contrast with the upperparts) are one of those birds those birds that can hide right in plain sight, if there are enough American Wigeon around. And if you are scanning through wigeon in bad light, you can forget about finding one of these (though it is a great time to string one!). It's just something you have to accept. Seagull Steve has accepted it, and he is the Global Birder Ranking System's #7 birder in the country. You would be wise to do the same.

Seagull Steve would not want to be on the receiving end of this mighty Old World bellow!

Bald Eagles are pretty sick. Seagull Steve had a pair of adults fly over at Benicia State Recreation Area, in Benicia, CA. Why was he there? For Black Rails, obvi. He heard three of them, and there are few things more comforting than the sounds of Black Rails...but one even more comforting sound does come to mind: a Northern Mockingbird imitating a Black Rail! Incredible! Yes, he heard a mockingbird imitating a Black Rail that morning. Unbelievable.

And no, I don't write in the third person now, I'm just filling in for Seagull today. He may or may have not overdosed on something last, shhhhhhhhh. - Felonious Jive

Scouting For The 5MC

The Five Mile Challenge (5MC) is coming up fast! It is scheduled for this Saturday, and if the weather allows it, I will be squaring off with two other vicious (have you met Miss Brown???), unapologetic nerds in Portland and Austin. As This Machine Nate is prone to saying, anything can happen. While I do have a major advantage of having San Francisco Bay in my circle, there are shortcomings as well...there is no real, killer hotspot in my circle, and there is a definite lack of fresh water. San Pablo Reservoir is in my circle, but since I don't have an EBMUD permit I do not think I will be able to bird it. I'm also worried I won't be very strong with passerines...well you can bet I will be strong as fuck identifying them, but there just isn't much diversity in my circle, and I think I may have to struggle with getting a lot of the birds that Flycatcher Jen could easily get (i.e. Red-breasted Sapsucker, Varied Thrush). And bla bla bla bla shit, I hope it doesn't rain the whole weekend.

As I mentioned before, my traditional patch is actually over five miles away, so once it was decided that the 5MC was on I had to do some scouting and scouring of some previously overlooked sites. If I was going to win, I would have to bird some places I don't often bird. Scouting has indeed panned out, and now I know a spot that could be critical for me is the area around the Richmond Marina.

I have spent minimal time birding here in the past and didn't have high hopes, but I was happy to see a male Black Scoter, which are very rare in San Francisco Bay. This is a bird I haven't seen in a long time...a long time. And I'm not talking about the species, I'm talking about this particular individual...I last saw it in 2013! This bird has been wintering here for a great many years, so it was nice to be the official refinder of the bird for the winter of 2016-2017. Most birders who have seen a Black Scoter in Contra Costa County have seen this one individual. And this individual, for whatever reason, let me crush the shit out of it.

Black Scoters are very uncommon in most of California, and practically never appear in places where you can get very close to them. Honestly, I had better looks at the Del Norte Common Scoter than I have had of Black Scoter anywhere. This bird was remarkably confiding, hanging out and flirting with Greater Scaup hens just a stone's throw from the shoreline. Even more incredibly, the bird was calling regularly, something I've never heard before...a mournful, descending whistle, kind of a like a more poignant Dusky-capped Flycatcher. I recently went back to the marina and actually found the bird by call...birding is weird.

So while not a major rarity, I was chuffed to get such good looks (yes, they were soul-satisfying) at this bird so close to home.

Of course, you can't see Black Scoter in California without having to sort through Surf Scoters, which almost anyone can muster some enthusiasm over.

Say's Phoebe was a bit of a surprise foraging in a small grassy area on the bayside, and aren't particularly common in my Five Mile Radius (5MR). Hopefully it will still be around for the 5MC.

An adult Horned Grebe uses its terminator eyes to great effect, slaughtering very small fish with cold efficiency.

An immature Horned Grebe uses its dusky eyes to a not-so-great effect, but will hopefully catch enough to eventually be slaughtering very small fish cold efficiency.

East coast birders are likely not so impressed with our faithful, scaup-loving Black Scoter. To compensate, here is a shiny Pelagic Cormorant to get your dirty gripoff juices flowing. Unlike our other saltwater-loving cormorant (that's Brandt's Cormorant for you n00bs), they are fairly common in San Francisco Bay and aren't relegated to the area near the Golden Gate.

On another trip to the Richmond Marina and surrounding bayside, it was low tide and the whole area was just being torn asunder by Black Oystercatchers. American Crows were also mucking about in the intertidal, procuring mussels, which the oystercatchers undoubtedly frowned upon...omnivore poseurs. Occasionally I'll see an individual like this one with pale fringes on its flanks.

To all the aspiring gull lords out there, sorry I haven't been posting many gulls lately, I don't know what to tell you. Do you know how many gulls I saw in Puerto Rico? Two. Do you know how many years it has been since I've seen a Glaucous Gull? Five. FIVE! Did you really need to know that? Possibly. Anyways, here's a Thayer's Gull and a California Gull. Thayer's will be a very good pickup during 5MC, hopefully it will not be a bird that gets left behind.

Out in the great, untamed wilderness that lies beyond the 5MR, other birds can be found. Our resident, introduced moffitti/maxima Canada Goose flocks often lure in other species, usually diminutive Cackling Geese. Martin Luther King Jr. Regional Shoreline, Oakland, CA.

Separating the two species here is usually a no-brainer, though other parts of the country do not have it as easy as we do (there are smaller Canada Geese and larger Cackling Geese subspecies further east). I would be stoked to get any goose species besides Canada during the 5MC, but we will just have to wait and see.

Nate, Jen....5MC is going to break you. After this, there will be nothing left of you beyond cracked shells, empty husks of what once were people. Everyone you love will shun you, beginning with your local birds this Saturday. And if I lose because it is pouring rain this weekend (which is the current forecast), I hope you except my butthurt gracefully.

Winter Ends Icily...Not Your Golden Guide's Swallow...Screech...Carnage at Heather Farm

It was the end of February. Winter Vague Runt season was drawing to a close, and March loomed large...March is traditionally not a particularly rewarding month in the bay area, unless one can squeeze out a juicy amount of pleasure from returning swallows and Selasphorus hummingbirds. Rare birds are few and far between, and the bulk of spring My Grunts have yet to arrive. But I feel like I go on and on about this every year so I'll leave it at that.

The end of winter (as North American Birds defines it) was ushered in by a ponytailed visit to Stafford Lake in Marin, where a Tufted Duck had stopped in. I like year birds, particularly Siberian ones. After walking around a bit and spending time with the drake Tufted, it was off to Lucchesi Park in Petaluma, a famed gull spot. I hadn't been there before so thought it could be a good time to squeeze in some gulling at the close of the season. Turns out Lucchesi Park is a pretty shitty place, but it did cough up one interesting bird for me...a bird that bore more than a passing resemblance to a first cycle Iceland Gull (kumlieni of course, one of the most hated subspecies on Earth). It wasn't a white, no-brainer of an Iceland Gull, but a very convincing bird nonetheless. More photos are here...its fate is in the hands of the Bird Police now.

At Coyote Hills in Fremont, the Glaucous Gulls that occasionally show up were predictably nowhere to be found, but a large swarm of newly arrived Tree Swallows were fun to hang out with.

Tree Swallows...are they the Blue-and-white Swallows of the north? Or are Blue-and-white Swallows the Tree Swallows of the south? These are the questions that keep no one up at night.

A gaggle of Barn Swallows tripped the eBird rarity alert. This is usually something birders brag about. Make no mistake, seeing Barn Swallows is not worth bragging about. I did enjoy getting to see so many different plumages at once though...standard model adults, intermediate birds, and a young brown and white bird that ignores the field guides.

That bird on the right is not what people think about when they think of a Barn Swallow. Note the new dark blue feathers coming in on the wings and head.

The best bird in March, for me, was not a Vague Runt or a newly-arrived My Grunt, it was a lowly permanent resident...this Western Screech-Owl. I haven't seen one of these in a long time...a long time. And never in daylight. And never at don't-give-a-fuck range, which is my preferred range for viewing birds. My luck with owls, which is traditionally terrible, has really turned around since Mexico...lifer Great Gray, lifer Saw-whet, successfully ignoring a Snowy Owl, and now my first look at WESO in years. Chuffed I am, just chuffed.

This confiding bird had been using this hollow as a roost for many weeks. I dipped on it a couple times, but on the third try the bird was right where it was supposed to be. Fantastically, I did not have to endure the company of other photographers in order to hang out with the bird. It mostly slept (shocker), but did some enthusiastic scratching and preening. If you have not seen the ears of a screech-owl before, this is what they look like. If you have not seen the underside of a screech-owl foot before, this is what that looks like.

Owls are goofy. For a moment, ignore the less-than-inspiring look on the bird's face. Note the lack of any thick horizontal marks on the breast...that is meaningless here in the bay area, but is a very good field mark to look at when in places where Whiskered Screech-Owl is found.

Occasionally a birder will make the always questionable decision of betraying an owl roost or nest to the public...which is how I got to see this bird. Questionable because birders, and especially photographers, will often show up in masses. People love owls. Attention often does not bother the birds very much, but sometimes it does, and can lead to a bird choosing a new roost site, or abandonment of a nest. What is a constant in these situations nowadays is that someone will publicly condemn whoever reported the bird, which is what happened to this screech-owl. While I think the concern is valid, it was not justified in this case...the bird's roost is right next to a paved trail, and hundreds of people walk, jog and bicycle past the bird every day.

After leaving the peaceful screech-owl, I found myself birding Heather Farm Park in Walnut Creek. I'd never been here before and didn't know what to expect. The last thing I expected was a Black Phoebe cutting loose an unearthly bellow directly above my head. Enduring such sonic power is not something the human body is built for...I thought my brain was beginning to seep out of my ears. No worries though, it was just blood.

You wouldn't think that a Black Phoebe is a bellower, but check out the width of that bill. Built to bellow.

The carnage continued after the phoebe. Here is something all you hybrid fetishists can get off on. That is not fighting. That is fucking.

Eventually things subsided when this docile Cackling Goose distracted me from the brain seepage and large fowl raping.

If you don't live in a place with many Cackling Geese, here is a crush to hold you over until next year.

While walking around the pond, I heard a foreign but familiar twitter in the distance. Could it be? Though the bird didn't call again, I listened to my instincts (Obi-Wan has taught me well) and eventually tracked down the source...a Tropical Kingbird! Not a bad bird at the end of March, especially at a relatively inland site.

TKs are a low-end Vague Runt in the region in fall and winter, but they typically don't linger this late into the spring. I wonder where the bird is now...Mexico? El Salvador? Let's say Guatemala and call it a post.

Colusa National Wildlife Refuge: Get Goosed

You show me Colusa National Wildlife Refuge, and I will show you a Falcated Duck. It's true. I've looked for the bird three times, three different years, and seen it every time.  I know most people don't have that kind of luck.  This may sound all nerdy and braggy but I just experienced one of the worst dips in my life (more on that soon), so cut me some slack.

Anyways, I didn't crush a Falcated Duck this time, but there are a handful of other birds that use the refuge, as you can see.  This post is about those birds.

The Central Valley is the realm of the goose.  The popular and somewhat sought-after Ross's Goose winters in abundance. Remarkably, in the early 30's their entire population was thought to be down to 6,000 individuals or less, mostly as a consequence of market hunting. Obviously, they have since rebounded, with a total population around 2 million.

As I've said before, Ross's Goose is the cutest goose, especially when they're not blowing up with warts.

A favorite fact of mine to learn about a particular bird species is the longevity record, so here we go; the oldest known Ross's Goose was "collected" at the ripe age of 22 and a half.

Many Ross's Geese have a lot of warty growth at the base of their bill. Here I have documented a Rhinoceros Goose. FACT: The first known description of a Ross's Goose, years before being formally described by science, called it the "horned wavey".  I have no idea what a wavey is, of course.

Snow Geese are a bit more common.  "Lesser" Snow Goose is the expected type here in California.

One of my most long-lasting birding memories from my formative birding years was seeing huge flocks of Snow and Ross's Geese for the very first time.  It's really a spectacle, and it has never gotten old.

And now, I present to you The Best Snow Goose I Have Ever Seen.  Is this not the Goose of Ages?

This Snow Goose rolls with just one black primary on each wing.  This bird is pretty much the physical manifestation of not giving a fuck.  Who needs those black primaries anyway?  Why not just be hella white?

Here it is attacking a normal, black-winged Snow Goose.  All geese bow down to Snowy Snow Goose.

Cackling Geese are uncommon at Colusa, but investing any sort of mild effort this time of year should result in turning up a few.  It's not like there's a shortage of geese to look through.

Let's not forget the humble "specklebelly", as bird destroyers call them.  The Great Ornithologist Felonious Jive is known to hold this bird in especially high regard.  Could it be because of the pleasant slope of the culmen?  The slightly hoarse honk?  Or that time he had words with a photographer and was skull-bashed with a 800mm lens?

One of the highlights of the day was a pair of ostensible Snow X Greater white-fronted Geese, which Felonious Jive featured at 10,000 Birds this month.  Here is a link to another very similar bird, found on the internets.

Fine, fine, here is a nongoose.  No, not a mongoose, a nongoose.  Northern Pintails are elegant ducks, I don't think that statement requires any further elucidation.  Thanks to Abe Borker for organizing a check-in with the Falcated Duck, and for Officer John Garrett for providing safe passage and general bird policing services.