The Human Birdwatcher Project Presents: How To Chase a Rarity

I've seen only three Yellow-throated Warblers in California. All were wonderful, and all found by other people. I used a nominal amount of wit, cunning and persistence to find them. But what is a nominal task for some birders is a seemingly insurmountable hardship for others. It doesn't have to be that way. Photographed at Ferry Park in San Francisco, CA.

According to the Human Birdwatcher Project (where "birders are people too!"), approximately 95% of birders will chase rarities at least occasionally, and 87% of birders will chase a bird at least once this year, be it near or far.

I am the 87%.

I chase a lot of birds, within a certain radius anyway. Always have, probably always will. I love seeing birds, don't care who found them. Sure, self-found birds are way better, but the idea of snobbishly avoiding going to see a rarity because someone else found it is absurd at best. If you are waiting to find your own Ivory Gull instead of looking for one someone else reported...good luck with that. I hope you have a long life ahead of you...you're gonna need it. The trick is not getting into the habit of doing nothing but chasing. But I digress, because this post is dedicated to chasing. More specifically, how to maximize your chances of success and comport yourself with some dignity.

Why write this post? For years, I never really believed that writing this post was necessary. Chasing a bird properly never seemed overly challenging, though of course there is never a guarantee that you will find what you seek. However, birders are a...special bunch. They need help sometimes. I've seen this at stakeout after stakeout, and it is time someone speaks up about the fact that, sadly, many birders are astonishingly bad at chasing birds.

Do you find that you dip and grip more often than you nail your target birds? Do you ever leave a chase feeling confused and embarrassed? The Human Birdwatcher Project is here to help. Let us cut to the chase...

I knew the approximate area where one could find the secret, not-so-secret Common Black-Hawk in Sonoma County, but once I got myself there I did not really know where to look. Mistakes were made. Luckily, some last minute texting got me pointed in the right direction, and all was well in the world. Photographed at a secret, not-so-secret location in Sonoma County, CA.

1) Get directions to get to the right place. This is fundamental, but if you don't have the fundamentals down then you don't have anything. Use Google Earth/Google Maps satellite imagery to pinpoint the exact spot and the correct access route prior to loading up your chasemobile. Know that when birders provide coordinates for a bird, even if that means nothing to you, you can just copy and paste them into Google Maps and that will display the location of where you need to get yourself. For example, I got my lifer Long-toed Stint at 52.371129°, 175.882463°. Plug that in and see where it takes you.

Read all the emails in the listservs, which typically provide better directions than eBird descriptions. It's usually pretty simple, and does not require you asking everyone in the listserv all over again about how to get to see the so and so when directions that could not be any clearer have already been posted for your convenience.

2) This is for you Geris out there...and with that said this is going to be ironic, but here goes: don't be ageist. I can't count the number of times my birding testimony at stakeouts has been doubted by other birders who don't know me, simply because I am unwithered and not wearing a Tilly hat. We "younger" birders don't assume old birders are untrustworthy, so why does anyone under 40 get viewed with suspicion by the ancients? This habit will not help you see your birds, ageist Geri birder.

You would think that any birder chasing a Falcated Duck, one of the most facemelting and unique waterfowl species in the world, would not need help identifying it. Sadly, you would be wrong. Photographed at Colusa National Wildlife Refuge, CA.

3) Study first. Again, this is fundamental stuff, but it bears repeating. What does the target bird look like? What does it sound like? Is it similar to other birds likely to be in the area? What are the clinching, diagnostic field marks? I've seen a great number of birders show up at a stakeout and require the bird to not only be found for them, but to be identified and interpreted to them as well. In short, they need their hand held. Hey, I like to hold hands too, but it's better to be prepared to identify a bird on your own.

4) Look at photos of the actual individual bird you are searching for prior to looking for it. While this was impossible 20 years ago with how long it took to process film and distribute the results (which in turn required a freaking projector if slides were involved), these days it couldn't be any easier. Check eBird, check listservs, etc. While not necessary for some birds, it can be extremely helpful for Vague Runts of many species.

One day, I looked for this Snow Bunting. I did not utilize all the available resources because I did not think finding the right spot would be difficult...I was wrong. Rookie mistake. Not only did I miss the bird, I never got to the right place. Luckily a couple days later I met Flycatcher Jen for the first time and she took me straight to it. Photographed at some parking lot by the Portland Airport, Portland, OR.

5) Utilize all available resources. Check multiple listservs, eBird, forums, rare bird alerts. The more information the better!

6) Birders are notoriously awkward and socially stunted. When at a stakeout, don't be afraid to talk to people to get details. Birders will sometimes be looking at the MEGA RARITY that you drove 3 hours to come see, and they won't bother telling anyone around them, knowing you are there for the same reason they are. Not chill. Talking to people at stakeouts can pay off in all manner of ways. Also, if a bird is not showing and birders are spreading out to track it down, it is wise to exchange phone numbers with someone else scouring the area.

7) Though I encourage birders to communicate, that comes with the caveat that most birders are not experts, and some are downright stringy. It takes practice to figure out the type of birder you are talking to when they are a total stranger. Are they legit? Inexperienced? Stringy? If someone says, "the split supercilium was surprisingly conspicuous from certain angles", they are probably more credible than someone who says "we knew it was different because it was feeding differently". So keep this in mind...when you roll up someplace and someone says, "oh, the bird was just here", that may not necessarily be true.

Unless you pray at the alter of your county list and nowhere else, you don't need to look for the unexpected Surf Scoter, Black Scoter, or White-winged Scoter that turns up. You must look for the Common Scoter. Crescent City Harbor, Crescent City, CA.

8) Sometimes, you just have to go. Veteran birders have a good sense of when they absolutely must drop everything and go for a bird immediately, beginners and intermediate birders don't. This is in part because they are acutely aware of the level of rarity any species has in their area, and to a lesser degree because they have a good grip on what species may be "naturally occurring". As the old saying goes, "look for the Barnacle Goose in January, not the one in July".

There isn't a birder out there who does not regret missing out on a certain chase, but it's better to have one chase regret (California's last Eastern Whip-poor-will immediately comes to mind for me) than ten. When in doubt, go for the bird!

9) Don't be afraid to look for the bird somewhere else besides where it was last seen if it's not showing up. This could simply mean looking a few hundred feet away, or a mile away. There is risk in this, but the reward can be great, and if you do refind the bird elsewhere you won't be standing in the middle of a crowd of birders, feverish with birdlust.

10) Time and tide are not to be ignored. Birds often settle into patterns quickly when they arrive someplace. Take note of the time of day when stakeout birds are being seen. If you are in a coastal area and are searching for a waterbird, tides often make a huge difference on the distribution of birds. I recommend getting an app for tides in your local area.

Cass and I waited an entire day for this Great Gray Owl to appear; many birders came and went, and a couple of them even made fun of me for Brambring. But, as anyone who has seen a Great Gray can attest to, the wait was well worth it. Since then, frankly, things have never been the same. Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park, Humboldt County, CA.

11) Be patient/try again. This one is simple. Sometimes, it literally takes all day to find a bird. Don't be afraid to put in the work. It may also take 3 or 4 or more attempts to find the bird you are looking for. Birding can not only be hard, it can be pain, and you have to be willing to endure it.

12) If you have the time, don't forget to peruse other birds in the immediate area. The Patagonia Picnic Table Effect is real...ignore the other birds around at your own peril.Vague Runts beget Vague Runts.

13) Most importantly...don't string. I know this is hard for some people (I'm looking at you, notorious repeat stringers). If, for example, you string a stakeout bird and are the last person to report it, there is a good chance you are going to cause birders to drive out to look for the bird from god knows how far away. That's a dick move, isn't it? And when they see your facepalm-inducing photo or bullshit description on eBird, you aren't going to be winning any popularity contests (#birdingpariah). Most importantly, your birding victory is an empty accomplishment, false and hollow. And somewhere, deep down in your heart of hearts, you know it to be true. Can there be anything worse?

Unlikely.

There you have it birders...hopefully you learned something, or at least got a refresher. Forever and always, The Human Birdwatcher Project is here for you.

Winter Mexico Tour Y2K16, Days 7-8: Isla Del Rey and Tecuitata

Dipper Dan, Flycatcher Jen and Stilt (nerds) stroll giddily toward a flock at Isla Del Rey.

Remember when I said that was the end of San Blas? Well...I lied! I'm a liar! Live with it!

On the morning of Day 7, we left San Blas returned to Lower Singayta to rebird it. The birding was ok...the new bird shine that we enjoyed here for our first morning in town had begun to wane a bit and it wasn't quite as good as on that first day. Such is life. However, we did get a group lifer, which a Washingtonian had scouted for us...White-throated Flycatcher! This was a milestone lifer for Flycatcher Jen, which cements this bird as...you guessed...her spirit bird! So, if you run into her, she now prefers to be called White-throated Flycatcher Jen. You can see our eBird list here.

In the afternoon four of had become quite conscious of a gaping hole...in our life lists. We had never seen Purplish-backed Jay. So despite the bitter, borderline violent protests of Dipper Dan (who had seen them), we got a panga and headed over to Peso Island, which is really called Isla Del Rey. After about a half hour of birding, we found a flock of them along the main trail. Life lists no longer gaped, only mouths. Stoked!

Shortly after the jays departed, we got out to the beach on the west side of the island. A big flock of birds loafed to the south, near the base of the breakwater. California Gull was a trip bird here, and a boring one at that. The scenery was nicer.

A confiding Common Black-Hawk was hunting in the dunes right above the beach. I'm used to poor to mediocre looks at these birds, so a brazen flyby unobstructed by bullshit vegetation was a great change of pace. And who knew black-hawks hung out in dunes? There is nothing these birds can't do.

Mmmm...black-hawk crush. This is one of those species I remember seeing in field guides as a kid...I never thought I would see one, yet here I was standing on goddamn sand dune, crushing the shit out of one. I've seen a lot of black-hawks over the years, but every now and then I'll see a bird like this and get a weird flashback...I never thought I would see this. You see, this is the kind of damage you can do to yourself if you become a hopeless nerd at such a young age.

Common Black-Hawk on a dune. Suitable habitat. Now we know.

Despite the black-hawk's mellow ways, this American Oystercatcher left me chuffed. Not only was this a quality trip bird, it was a frazeri. This is the subspecies that shows up in California, which confusingly also looks like Black X American Oystercatchers, which are fairly common in SoCal and in coastal Baja. I've written and worried extensively about that here.

Note the jagged breast band, a classic trait for this subspecies.

The white wing stripe often does not extend onto the primaries in frazeri, which is the case for this bird. In the photo below, you can also see some dusky coloring on the white uppertail stripe, another trait the nominate subspecies lacks. Its cool seeing these birds where you know they aren't just hanging out and boning down with Black Oystercatchers, for the sake of ID of course.

If you are so inclined, here is our eBird checklist from that afternoon. Oh, it is totally possible to circumnavigate the southern part of the island, but only at low tide! We learned that the hard way.

On the morning of Day 8, it was time to head south for real. We would bird one more site in Nayarit, above the little town of Tecuitata, which is one of the new hot shit birding spots in the area. I copied down the instructions included in the excellent Birds of Passage, and even managed to find Teodoro (the first Mexican Miracle of the morning) who have us the green light to head up the hill away from town. He said we had to talk to someone else (I forget his name) in order to pay the birding fee, but said we could pay after we were done birding. We found the right parking spot mentioned in Birds of Passage, and eventually even found the guy we were supposed to pay a couple hours later on the trail (the second Mexican Miracle of the morning). It seems they are pretty serious about developing ecotourism here, and with the high quality birding the area offers it's a perfect fit. I will say one thing that Birds of Passage left out...when you park, the road that goes left is much longer (and thus preferable) than the road that goes up the hill to the right; if you go right, you will probably have to turn back around after a little while. The habitat is great in both areas though.

Shortly after parking, we found a massive flock of birds feeding in the fruiting trees. Many Black-throated Magpie-Jays adorned the trees. This remains a bird that I am not comfortable with looking at...they are just too crippling.

Much of the flock was made up of Yellow-winged Caciques, loud, flashy birds with funny crests that do not at all fit in with other birds I've seen. There is something different about them, and it's not just the way they can devour an avocado.

Citreoline Trogons are always nice to gaze upon. What is not nice to gaze upon, I can say from experience, are Colima Pygmy-Owls...I walked up on one and flushed it from about 15 feet away at eye level before I knew it was there, just to have it fly into the forest, never to be seen again. I am not counting it. Colima Painful-Owl is more like it.

Golden-cheeked Woodpeckers are everywhere, but they are flashy birds.

We had some great mixed flocks that morning; one of my favorites had Yellow, Black-headed and Rose-breasted Grosbeaks all in the same combo/binocular view. As Flycatcher Jen mentioned over at I Used To Hate Birds, this was Don Francisco's trigger bird when he was a kid, as he solemnly and ceremoniously told us at the very beginning of the trip. Looking at a Yellow Grosbeak is like looking into fully-realized Frank's soul.

I was really stoked to get this as a lifer a couple days before in La Bajada...its not like I'm going to run into one of these in southeast Arizona anytime soon. What an absurd head.

Overall, Tecuitata was great birding and I would highly recommend it to anyone birding in Nayarit. Lots of great, mid-elevation habitat, and big mixed flocks. The checklist from the morning is right here.

Winter Mexican Tour Y2K16, Days 3-5: North of San Blas, La Bajada, Cerro San Juan

After winning all morning at Lower Singayta, we decided to go shrimp ponding north of San Blas. There are a large number of shrimp ponds out this way, and since four our of five of us needed Collared Plover, it seemed like a logical place to bird late in the afternoon.

The shrimp ponds were extremely birdy....a nice variety of waders, some gulls, some terns, sandpipers, passerines in the mangroves....great area to wrack up a big species list. However, we dipped on Collared Plover...which we would do for the rest of the time in Mexico. If a nemesis bird exists for me south of the border, it is this goddamn plover.

We came across one pond filled to the brim with wood storks. I've never seen so many in one place.

Wood Storks galore! Here is our best checklist from birding this area, which we visited multiple days.

At different points in the week we ran into local birding luminaries Mark Stackhouse and Francisco Garcia, who both offered good birding advice. They were both pretty stoked on Chacalilla, one of the emerging hotspots in the area. Chacalilla is a short drive from San Blas, and essentially any of the roads leading out of town can offer quality birding (thorn forest, open country and wetland birds). Here is male Orchard Oriole posing pleasantly, south of town.

The view east of Chcalilla; note the pendant cacique nests hanging off the tree. Shortly after this photo was taken, the sky became plagued with Lesser Nighthawks.

There are hella Common Black-Hawks down Mexico way, this one in Chacalilla. We saw several black-hawks that we were never able to ID to species, so there is a decent chance we saw Great Black-Hawk at some point and didn't know it. Birding is hard.

On Day 4 the nerds went to La Bajada, where the birding was not quite facemelting but it ended up being very, very good. Lifers for me this morning were Mexican Woodnymph, Gray-crowned Woodpecker, Rosy Thrush-Tanager (!!!), Rusty-crowned Ground-Sparrow, Red-crowned Ant-Tanager, and Yellow Grosbeak. Not bad eh? Another highlight was an enormous fruiting fig (aka "the miracle tree") that was overflowing with Citreoline Trogons and other frugivores...I've never seen a tree overflowing with trogons before, and I highly recommend it. You can see our La Bajada checklist right here.

On Day 5 the nerds went further afield, out to Cerro San Juan. We approached via the traditional northern route (Mark suggested approaching from the south instead, but we got lost). Birding was steady but never overwhelming...gobs of Tufted Flycatchers, some Slate-throated Redstarts, lots of Berylline Hummingbirds. Finally we got to the big open area where the road reached its highest elevation, and things got really interesting here. We started running into lots of nice flocks, and the abundance of hummingbirds was impressive...eventually we found a particular field that was buzzing with Rufous, White-eared and Berylline Hummingbirds...I've never seen anything quite like it, it was heck of intense. More and more trip birds began to appear...White-striped Woodcreeper (lifer!), Pine (lifer!) and Buff-breasted Flycatchers, Cassin's Kingbird, Eastern Bluebird, Grace's and Crescent-chested Warblers, etc.

The open area around La Noria is known for its accommodating population of Spotted Wrens. They did not disappoint.

The number of Greater Pewees we saw in Mexico leads me to believe that there are far more Greater Pewees in the world than I had previously conceived of. Don't worry, they never got old.

There was a lot of fear and loathing when it came to hummingbirds on this trip. One of the high-priority target birds for all of us was Bumblebee Hummingbird, which we successfully dipped on excessively. We spent a significant amount of time at the right elevation/habitats, but we were empty-handed in the end. Pain. Calliope Hummingbirds like this one offered false hope on several occasions, but hey seeing a Calliope is a lot better than seeing nothing at all.

It turns out that there are a shitload of White-eared Hummingbirds out there in the world. This should not surprise me, yet somehow it does. One would think I would have crippling photos to show for it, but I am putting this questionable one up instead. Blogging works in mysterious ways.

A long time ago, in a county far far away, I saw a Gray Silky-Flycatcher. It was in suitable habitat...suitable habitat in Orange County. It was weird. It was a known bird, and the ruthless Bird Police used their malevolent powers to reject the record based on grounds of uncertain origin. There are those who are still butthurt about this.

Finally, after all those years, I have seen other Gray Silky-Flycatchers. They have eluded me in Mexico before, but not anymore. They are birds impressive in mellowness and plumage. I counted this individual as a lifer. It felt really, really good.

In the afternoon, a random walk in the woods led to one of the best and most mesmerizing flocks of the trip, which was illuminated by this glowing male Flame-colored Tanager. More on those birds next time.

Y2K14: Fall Of The Nemeses

Xantus's Hummingbird was one of my first life birds of 2014. Hopefully we will get another one in California someday, but without the drama and dissolving of friendships that the British Columbia bird caused. Todos Santos, MX. 

Birders...I write you on New Year's Eve, just hours before 2014 is shat into temporal oblivion and 2015 hits us on our collective head like a giant ACME brand anvil. This NYE is guaranteed to be the worst in years...tonight there will no bourbon. No bastards. No birds. I have contracted a nasty strain of sickness from Tennessee a few days ago, and I am forced to lay low. There will be no glory for me tonight, nor revelry nor merriment...there will be only NyQuil.  Forecasts of debauchery have been cast aside, and replaced with forecasts of boredom, mediocrity, and FOMO. That said, tomorrow is a new year list! Hopefully by foregoing any raging tonight I will feel like a human being in the next day or two, and the birding (and compensatory raging) can commence.

Those of you familiar with the Birdosphere know what happens at the end of every year...the dreaded yet inevitable year in review. Since I am too wracked with illness to do any actual birding or do anything else fun, I'm going to push this post out today. Hopefully it will make a good read, and we will see you again soon.


Pinkest Lifers of the Year Y2K14: On my way to Texas last March, I made a small but very important detour in New Mexico to get a couple long-awaited lifer Rosy-finches, Brown-capped (above) and Black. Thank the bird gods this place exists. Sandia Crest Lodge, NM.

Best Birding of the Year Y2K14: Not really a shocker here...the award goes to spring in South Texas. Are the birding spots crowded? Yes. Are you surrounded by Geri? Always. Are you required to elbow rabid photogs in the ribs? Constantly.  Is there an abundance of facemelt? And you know this. The mix of "valley specialties" combined with huge numbers of migrating passerines and waterbirds (which you can often watch arrive off the Gulf, while you are birding) make for high quality birding. Hooded Warbler, South Padre Island, TX.

Most Embarrassing Nemesis Defeated Y2K14: Until this year, Eastern Screech-Owl was the most widespread and abundant U.S. bird that I needed to see. It was embarrassing, I will be the first one to admit it. I had heard them and even seen one (horribly), but had not actually had a look at one that warranted counting. That all changed in Texas this spring. Estero Llano Grande State Park, TX.

Most Nemesis Nemesis Defeated Y2K14: Cerulean Warbler was the bird I really wanted to see in Texas...or anywhere, to be honest. This is another bird that has languished on my heard-only list for many years, and I have been dying to see one for as long as I can remember. I obsessively visited South Padre Island day after bloody day in hopes of tracking one down, and was finally rewarded with a male and a female on the same day in late April. It was a memorable experience...does this ring a bell?: "Don't hurt me", he said in a feeble whimper. "I just want to see Indigo Buntings".

Texas birding was very eventful, even without any fallouts. Thanks to Nate McGowan and Tiffany Kersten for showing me around, getting me on birds, helping me drink, etc.

Crappiest Looks at a Life Bird Y2K14: Golden-cheeked Warbler
Most Crucial Inner Circle Life Bird Y2K14: Black-capped Vireo
Weirdest Life Bird Y2K14: Chuck-will's-widow
Best Heard Only Bird Y2K14: Crimson-collared Grosbeak
State With The Most Annoying Photographers Y2K14: Texas

Most Range-Restricted Nemesis Y2K14: I have spent hella time birding in southeast Arizona. I even spent a whole spring doing fieldwork there. I have heard countless Whiskered Screech-Owls...but could never see one. After years of waiting, I finally put this bird to bed (well, it was already asleep) when I saw one of the adults that would spend its days roosting in a nest cavity in Madera Canyon, across from Kubo. As nice as it was to meet this species, this was not the first life bird "Slick" would muster that day.

Weirdest Vague Runt Y2K14: After returning to the bay area from the southwest, there was some work to be done...someone from the Inner Circle had finally leaked the location of the nesting Common Black-Hawk in Sonoma County. Many Bothans died to bring us this information.  This absurdly rare bird has not only been living here for years, it has actually been nesting...with a Red-shouldered Hawk. I got to see the whole family...the hybrid offspring was truly bizarre, I would love to see it as an adult someday. Photographed at Super Secret Inner Circle Location, Sonoma County, CA. Don't check eBird or anything.

Best CA Bird Y2K14: Rustic Bunting. You all know about this bird. I don't have photos (maybe next year?), I'm just stoked that I actually saw it. The birding gods have truly smiled on me in order to keep this bird in Golden Gate Park for almost two weeks. I left the bay area the day the bird had originally been found...I almost quit birding, but luckily the bird decided to winter here. So I'm still birding.

Worst Dip Y2K14: I guess I'll give this award to San Francisco's Sulphur-bellied Flycatcher, but 100% of the birders who chased it were met only with failure, so I don't feel that bad. However, the Brambling wintering in Arcata is causing significant mental anguish...that bird showed up the day after I was last in Arcata, and it is still taunting me.

Nerdiest Birder Gathering Y2K14: This Machine Nate, Flycatcher Jen, The Laurence and Seagull Steve, all aboard the same pelagic trip. It was an unholy union of bird bloggers, and I still feel the residual shame.

Most Awkward Birding Event Y2K14: In response to mentioning some distant Swainson's Hawks, a man at a Harlingen, TX, birding site told me, "there's something else I'd like to get a closer look at", and then offered to orally pleasure me. He was really persistent about it too, talking about how skilled he was, and eventually threw his hands in the air (seriously) and gave me the "your loss" look when I kept turning him down. So if you're a dude and you're into that sort of thing, go bird Hugh Ramsey Nature Park. If your'e not into that sort of thing, don't make eye contact with anyone who isn't wearing binoculars.

Vague Runt of the Year Y2K14: Salvin's Albatross. Aside from the sheer rarity of this very majestic bird, the incredible amount of luck that went into seeing it is still difficult for me to wrap my mind around. Half Moon Bay, CA.

Hoped-for Lifer of the Year Y2K14: This is a weird category...but so what? Birding is weird. Anyways, the winner of this category is Guadalupe Murrelet. The water was very, very warm off central and northern California this year, which led to very different (and generally less birdy) conditions than the ones we encountered in 2013. That said, the warm water brought me life Craveri's and Guadalupe Murrelets, which is exactly what I asked Santa for when rumors of El Nino abounded last summer. Photographed off Bodega Bay, CA.

Honorable Crush Y2K14: Eurasian Wigeon. Eurasian Wigeons are not particularly rare here, but I have never crushed one so hard before. Photographed in Thousand Oaks, CA.

Strangest Birding Event of Y2K14: The Murrelet Incident. The murrelet continues to have believers, by the way...the Incident may yet still be unfolding.

Most Popular BB&B Post of Y2K14: Swallowgate.

Best New Birding Blog of Y2K14: The Birder's Conundrum.


Comeback Birding Blog of Y2K14: Reservoir Cats.

Honorable Vague Runt Y2K14: LeConte's Sparrow. Why hello LeConte's Sparrow! You are so brightly colored and enthusiastic...you must possess a real Positive Mental Attitude. Thank you for being so brave and confiding, unlike every other member of your species I have ever seen. Abbott's Lagoon, Marin County, CA.

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.