2020: The Dawn of The Geri Birding Renaissance

California Scrub-Jays were daily yard visitors for a good part of the summer but are currently all but undetectable from the yard, although they are certainly still nearby. It is fascinating getting to learn some of the habits and vagaries of local common shit that you thought you knew like the back of your hand already. All photos in this post were taken at Rancho de Bastardos.

Geri Birding. Now, more than ever, it matters. BB&B readers know that we have always been staunch proponents of Geri Birding, whether you are doing it in your own backyard or at some lodge buried deep in a rainforest. But with the arrival of Covid-19, Geri Birding went from a pastime to somewhat of a necessity, at least for a while.

Do you remember those days in early spring? Here in Santa Clara County, California, we went straight from business-as-usual 😎to shelter-in-place 😷practically overnight, pretty much before the rest of the country. Fear and confusion and anger reigned supreme...and I guess that really hasn't changed, though the shock has certainly worn off. But I digress...it was a gut punch any way you look at it.

Back then, "wear a fucking mask" was not a thing. The thing was "don't leave your fucking house"...although no one was actually saying it quite like that then, or now, because that's not something anyone can tolerate for very long, potential life saving action be damned. There is a reason house arrest is a thing. However, that was indeed the message being sent by some birders for a little while. Birders were taking to listservs and social media, courageously proclaiming to all that would listen that they refused to chase mega rarities 15 minutes away and bashing all who did.

A big change in the yard this year was the Nuttall's Woodpeckers finally getting hooked on the suet. After being very occasional visitors to the feeding station they now visit on the regular. I've seen a great many of these in my life but can now say the best looks I've ever had of them were in my own yard. Here is a juvenile showing its distinctive red forecrown.

You may think I am cusp of delivering some harsh judgement, one way or the other, or am on the verge of launching into a long and rambling self-righteous screed on how birders should now conduct themselves in The Age of Coronavirus...but I am not. I am just setting the stage to tell you that I sure as shit have spent a lot more time at home than usual this year, and the best part of that has been GERI BIRDING.

As soon as things went south in March, I began geri birding with renewed vigor and have not stopped...never stop geri birding, you know what I'm saying? Can't stop won't stop geri birding. The results have been very rewarding, and Rancho de Bastardos has performed as advertised. I geri birded so hard this spring that I suspect I may actually now be geri. I catch myself doing stuff like complaining about my back, unironically yelling dad cliches at my daughter, and asking basic, embarrassing questions like "Honey, have you seen my keys?" or "What the fuck is Tiktok?"

I know right? It's a bad scene, but I am not ashamed. Geri birding makes hanging out at home a much more enjoyable, perhaps even more gripping experience than normal, especially in semi-normal weather conditions (i.e. under 100 degrees and without a megafire raging nearby) and in spite of things happening in the rest of the world that are trying their best to send you spiraling into a state of catatonic depression that you will never climb out of ever again.

Another major yard upgrade this year was the addition of this little oriole feeder. I wasn't sure how birds would take to it but the neighborhood Hooded Orioles love it. I even saw chickadees and a Song Sparrow or two using it.

The Hooded Orioles here have always been skittish, especially males. It's like they know how facemelting they are and don't want to hurt anyone by letting them get too good of a look. I got some deec pics this summer though. They have all departed now and are southbound, but we had some good hangs this year.

How about some more babies? Here is a juv Oak Titmouse. They are much more confiding than adults, usually look a touch spiffier and have more of a cowlick than a very prominent crest.

A young Northern Mockingbird can do a very convincing Sage Thrasher impersonation.

One afternoon we had a big family group of Tree Swallows perched above the backyard with a bunch of fresh brown and white juvs still getting fed by parents. This is a local breeder that disappears very early in the year - I have no eBird records of them from the yard past June. Like the jays that opened up this post, they are certainly in the area longer than that but I do find it interesting that they are dependably absent from my microzone by July.

This was a big year for Song Sparrows in the yard, the local breeders produced some bumper crops of youngsters like this one. On some days there would be an actual double-digit pure flock of Song Sparrows in the yard, which I am not accustomed to seeing anywhere.

This Cooper's Hawk is not a baby at all anymore but not a grownup either. In fact, it doesn't get much more intermediate than this, look at all those adult feathers coming in and that orange eye. Raptor highlights so far this year include more Sharp-shinneds than ever before, both eagle species (annual but always appreciated), and a banded Peregrine Falcon trying to kill Forster's Terns (after failing, killed a passerine instead).

As of this writing I am up to 113 species seen or heard from Rancho de Bastardos this year - my single year record of 126 species, set in 2018, seems well within reach but topping it is not a certainty either. El Rancho has been endowed with 7 new species in 2020: Scaly-breasted Munia (expected and disappointing), Willet (a calling nocturnal spring migrant, astonishing and rather rare in the county away from South San Francisco Bay/salt ponds), Swainson's Thrush (overdue, finally heard some nocturnal flight calls this spring), Western Kingbird (spring migrant, a pleasant surprise), Western Wood-Pewee (a not unexpected but very appreciated spring migrant), and Wrentit. The Wrentit is something I might hear sing from the riparian along the nearby creek at some point, but I was amazed to both hear and see a pair in my actual yard one midsummer day. My yard is decidedly terrible Wrentit habitat, but perhaps better than I thought? That leaves one more new yard bird... 

Red-winged Blackbirds have always nested in the pond behind my house but this year they decided to get real familiar with my yard in 2020, possibly because of a newish feeder that they could be more comfortable on. In previous summers they would disappear by the end of June but this year they have stuck around, and in greater numbers. Not only was it nice to have them linger and loiter longer, they helped lure in my newest yard bird.

I was astonished to look outside one day and see this thing going to seed town (Seed Town?) on the platform feeder one day with the local Red-winged flock. I'd only ever seen one in the county before, and here was a bright male right in the yard...in July! THIS IS WHY I GERI BIRD. This was both a new yard bird (obvi) and a new 5MR bird too, which made it that much sweeter.

The Yellow-headed Blackbird made itself at home very quickly and visited the yard a number of times a day, bossing around other birds, calling frequently and settling in near the top of the yard bird hierarchy. So, so sick. This is not the rarest bird that has been in the yard, but I am left wondering if things will ever be the same.

A surprising number of birders came out to the Los Capitancillos Ponds to chase it, most of which eventually had success. Apparently, scoping into my yard from the other side of the ponds became a thing people were actually doing.

If you don't already geri bird with zeal, I do recommend giving it a shot. I know not everyone has a living situation where this is possible, or your shitty apartment is simply too urban to be conducive to this...I have lived in those situations for most of my adult life. Trust me, I've skipped a lot of articles and posts about yard birding over the years, had my eyes glaze over when yard birding makes its way into conversation, but we must face the music...the time for geri birding is now. Have you felt The Long Shadow of Senescence slowly creeping over you? Let go of your fears, of your wasted youth, and your journey towards the Geri Side will be complete. Birders everywhere have finally made some effort to really bird their yards for the first time this year and have reaped the rewards. What better time to start than September? 

To you grizzled veteran geri birders out there, I hope your yards have brought you similar good fortune in 2020. This has been the year to really cement our geri birding legacies, right? As much as I look forward to having property of my own so I can go crazy with planting natives and installing an imposing state-of-the-art Vague Magnet Water Feature like Flycatcher Jen, Rancho de Bastardos continues to produce surprises and helps soothe some of the daily angst that comes with the territory this year. September is now upon us, the window is open and anything can happen, so good luck to everybody this month, Geri or otherwise.

Radius Roundup: Lessons and Results From a 5MR "Big Year", and The Shortest Big Day

A Ruby-crowned Kinglet unleashes a terrifying bellow into the chilly radius air. Photographed on the Guadalupe River Trail.

There has been an awakening.

Have you felt it?

eBird Top 100 listing rises, and Radius birding to meet it.

If you've checked in on BB&B a few times this year, you already know that I've put my full weight as one of birding's marquee influencers into propping up the FIVE MILE RADIUS. 5MR is now flourishing throughout the land, particularly in my state of California. But this year has been so much more than simply harvesting Flycatcher Jen's vision and going Johnny Appleseed with it all over the nerdscape...I've not only been talking the radial talk, I have spent this entire year walking the radial walk. Like several of you, I've taken part in Jen's 5MR Challenge, doing my own big year of sorts in my 5MR. More and more I find "big year" to be a cringeworthy phrase, but I guess it is what it is. I admittedly didn't go all out and missed my share of birds (more on that below), but I spent a shocking amount of time within five miles of my home this year while actually doing quite a bit of birding. To say it was nice would be a gross understatement...it was time well spent birding instead of sitting in the car, driving somewhere, burning gas, chasing things that some list may have "needed" but I did not actually need to see. Rather than feeling tied down by my radius, shifting my focus to what was really local felt almost luxurious at times.

How did I do? I finished 2019 with 187 species in eBird, with the only species not sanctioned by the Bird Police being European Goldfinch, which have been present in very low numbers in a part of my radius for a number of years but rightly are not considered established in the state by the CBRC. The goal I set for myself earlier in the year was 185 species, so I was surprisingly on point there. Many U.S. birders exceeded that total in their respective radii this year but I am still really happy with how I did. Lifetime (aka from spring of 2017 until present) my 5MR now stands at 196 species. I started the year with 169 species, and eagerly look forward to the 200 species milestone, which should be possible with spring migration coming this way sooner than I will be ready for.

While some spots I've recently started birding did not yield anything unexpected, I think it is only a matter of time before some of them bear radial fruit. Martial Cottle Park is one such place, and until that time its Poop Fairies Western Bluebirds will continue to remind dog walkers to pick up their shit.

Long story short, after a lot of work, strategy, staring at Google Earth and exploring, The Year of The 5MR has been Great Success. I'm very happy with how it went, and thought I'd share some final thoughts before easing off the radius gas pedal for a bit.

My radius is probably best described as moderately birded by other people. There is a small but dedicated and active group of birders who already do much of their birding within the confines of my radius, and there are a number of places that are productive enough to draw in birders from further afield. In terms of radius rarities I managed to see this year, I certainly benefited from the efforts of others (i.e. Horned Grebe, American Bittern, Swainson's Hawk, Red-naped and Yellow-bellied Sapsuckers, Summer Tanager), but I am very pleased with what I found myself (Long-billed Dowitcher, Glaucous Gull, Pileated Woodpecker, Eastern Kingbird, Red-eyed Vireo, Tennessee Warbler, Clay-colored Sparrows, Red Crossbill). I certainly did chase some birds but am happy to report that this was no run-of-the-mill year listing effort where I spent tons of time chasing species found by others, which was part of the idea baked into this thing in the first place.

While I did very, very little chasing outside my radius this year, I had no problem tracking down radius-rare stuff found by others. This Red-necked Phalarope found at the Los Capitancillos Ponds by Ann Verdi was without a doubt one of the Top 10 birds to be found within my radius this year, and possibly the most unexpected, even though they are fairly common migrants about 15 miles away.

I can't speak for Flycatcher Jen, but I always assumed 5 was chosen for the radius distance because it is a nice, round, modest number. For where I live, I am totally fine with it, 5 miles really does seem perfect. However, for other people I know that it isn't so appealing...obviously, people don't all live with the same diversity of habitats within 5 miles and, equally importantly, have comparable access to potential birding sites as everyone else. There's a lot of private property out there, a lot of public land that doesn't have real access, a lot of vast expanses of homogeneous habitat (i.e. sage, creosote flats, intensive ag, etc). In some places, a larger radius could be more appropriate than 5 miles, or *gasp* the whole radius thing isn't necessary. I would say that places not suited for 5MR are certainly the exception and not the rule though.

I touched on this already, but I found a great many locally uncommon and rare birds myself, including a number of species that are downright rare for the county. This is what I had hoped for but did not dare to actually expect, and is consistent with the experience of a lot of other 5MR birders this year. Rarities are out there waiting to be found, often in places where relatively few birders are searching. Tired of chasing stuff? Want to break from the pack and find your own birds more often? Your radius awaits.

I knew going in to 2019 that my radius is very, very tough for shorebirds, and results bore that out. However, I am now convinced that we actually could get numbers of shorebirds in the rare event that water levels at wetland sites actually become suitable. This flock of Western Sandpipers photographed from my backyard was, as far as I know, the one and only flock of peeps seen by anyone in my 5MR in 2019.

Another of the primary tenets of 5MR birding is to go check out sites you have never been before, places that are underbirded, or not birded at all. I'm happy to say I was able to do all that very frequently...in fact, on my last morning of birding of the year, 2 of the 3 sites I visited were places I'd never been to before 2019. eBird helped with this of course, not to mention just scrolling around satellite imagery in my radius and some local help too. It really is satisfying going to new places nearby and finding some that are worth repeat visits. Last month I walked up the "back side" of Santa Teresa County Park and snagged my first radius Prairie Falcon - I never would have tried this trail if it wasn't for 5MR....and I would not have seen the falcon if I was not doing the monthly challenge, which happened to be a stationary count!

Also, I have said this from the beginning, but 5MR is really perfect for birders with time constraints, such as when you have small children and can't afford to be gone all day without seeming like a Kenny Bostick. I knew radius birding was a match made in heaven with parenthood even before Annie was born, but this year really drove that point home. A number of other parents have echoed the same sentiment.

Birding a lot in my 5MR has really driven home the point that Cooper's Hawks have adapted quite well to suburban life. They are common here year round. Sharp-shinned Hawks, on the other hand, are very uncommon and nowhere reliable. This Cooper's was strutting around my back yard one day last summer.

For those of us who are interested in nonavian life, exploring your 5MR can be very beneficial as well. My non-bird highlight of the year (which was uncomfortably close to being a lowlight) was inadvertently walking up to a hunting mountain lion at Almaden Quicksilver County Park. I am still convinced it was waiting to ambush one of the many radius black-tailed deer in the area and would have ignored me had I not noticed it, but I still feel a bit lucky that I noticed it when I did and not when I was 7 or 8 feet away. Anyways, a sketchy but cool experience, happy to be able to see a lion up close and not have it be in a threatening mood.

What else? I bought less gas than I would have, burned less gas than I would have, potentially saved on some car maintenance, and only rarely found myself birding where more than a couple other birders were present at the same time. These are all very good things. And since I reached the 185 species plateau, I completed the bourbon challenge I issued to myself earlier this year. As a Champion Radius Birder, I bought myself a bottle of Black Skimmer Bourbon and WOW...if you are a whiskey fan do yourself a favor and pick some up if you are ever in a treat yoself mood. The Black Skimmer Rye is also very good, and is a few bucks cheaper.

Were there negatives to doing so much radius birding? Sure, birding in July and August (with one notable exception) was even slower than usual, and I didn't see a ton of Vague Runts this year...in fact, I did not even get a state bird...which stings, honestly. I love getting state birds. I would have chased the Yellow-browed Warbler but luckily a prior engagement prevented me from trying for it when I otherwise would have...which would have resulted in joining in a big fat group dip with 100+ other miserable birders from around the country. The shortage of Vague did make the rareish birds I saw in the radius that much better though. My backyard Eastern Kingbird will forever be one of my favorite self found Vague Runts, and I still reel over discovering a July Red-eyed Vireo, which is a bird I discovered without even driving.

And this should be obvious to everyone, but I would advise that you make sure to still bird out of your radius sometimes! Focusing solely on your 5MR is likely to make you crazy and make birding sound like a lackluster idea, which is really unnecessary. Don't foresake the places that you love! Birding your 5MR does not mean you are breaking some holy vow if you go bird outside of it.

Want to become the master of your domain? 5MR birding will get you extremely attuned to birdlife in your radius...not just status and distribution, but arrival and departure dates and breeding behavior or lack thereof. My radius Pied-billed Grebes had chicks very late this year at multiple locations - this fish exchange between an adult and a chick took place on November 9, which seemed strangely late in the year. Photographed at Los Gatos Creek County Park.

In November I listed my top 10 target birds for the remainder of the year; I managed to see 4 of them. My last new species of 2019 - this Golden-crowned Kinglet - was on the list. This fall/winter has been very good for many irruptive birds like this in the region, though the Varied Thrush invasion I was hoping for did not pan out. Photographed at Greystone Park.

And with that, here is everything that I know of that I missed that was seen in my radius this year. Most of these were just one or two records.

Tundra Swan (also a county bird)
Greater Scaup
Bonaparte's Gull
Solitary Sandpiper
Cassin's Kingbird
Purple Martin
Varied Thrush (damn you Justyn)
Pacific Wren
Hermit Warbler
Nashville Warbler
Blackpoll Warbler
Yellow-breasted Chat (also a county bird)
Swamp Sparrow
Evening Grosbeak

I'm sure there were some other species that could have been found on the fringes or passed through undetected, such as Northern Pygmy-Owl, Northern Saw-whet Owl, Ferruginous Hawk, Greater Roadrunner, Hammond's Flycatcher and Tricolored Blackbird. I'm very surprised that Snow Goose wasn't seen by anybody in the area this year. A Calliope Hummingbird was seen a stone's throw from my radius and was probably actually visible from inside at some point. But missing birds is a fundamental part of any kind of birding experience, no need to do a thorough autopsy on birds not seen.

In other radial news, on December 21 I met the monthly 5MR Challenge issued by her lordship Flycatcher Jen and did a BIG DAY in my radius. What better day to do a big day than the shortest one of the entire year?! It was not a max effort day as I did not go owling and I had done no scouting specifically for this, but I went pretty hard...no lunch break or anything like that. I started off by walking out my back gate and doing some of the ponds behind my house in the predawn light, which quickly netted me 46 species. After that, I was off like a shot.

You can't make out much in this photo but I think a lot of you recognize that silhouette. A Phainopepla has been wintering at Guadalupe Oak Grove Park for many years now and was readily findable on The Shortest Big Day. This is still the only one I've seen in the entire county; I assume the freakish flyover Phainopepla I had at my house once was this very bird.

I decided on 90 species as a goal...seemed reasonable, and was above the 86 species that was my previous day high back in 2017 for the 5MR challenge, which was done in the northwestern corner of Alameda County back when I lived in Albany. I could have gotten more on that fateful day, but I abruptly had to quit in the afternoon to go chase the Ross's Gull...one of the best decisions I've made in my whole life.

Instead of giving an agonizing blow by blow, I'll just skip to the end. Steller's Jay and Eurasian Collared-Doves were the biggest misses, and I easily could have picked up Wild Turkey and Band-tailed Pigeon had I gone up into the hills at all. I also probably could have found a Red-winged Blackbird if I stood in my backyard long enough at sunset. But otherwise I did very well, having less-than-ideal weather at only one spot and having much fortune with waterbirds and upland species in general.

I missed this bittern multiple times at the beginning of the year, but luckily it returned for another winter and I was able to connect with it a couple times late in 2019. One of those times was during my Solstice Big Day, which was heck of lucky considering it often isn't hanging out someplace visible.

I finished the day with a stunning (to me) 101 species! I couldn't be happier with that...considering the short day and lack of preparation, I think it is a sign of fruitful radius. It does make me wonder what time of year I could actually squeeze the biggest day out of my 5MR...is December/January as good as it gets? April? November? Maybe I'll attempt another one in 2020 and find out.

And so it goes. I'm going to give 5MR coverage a well-deserved rest for a while, as I've said my piece and don't plan on getting cray with year listing on any scale in 2020. That said, with the beginning of the new year I hope more birders give perpetual county year listing a break and give the radius a try! 

Adventures In Geri Birding

I was once what they call a "young birder"...but no longer. I may still be younger than the average birder - much younger - but I can't identify with being a young birder anymore, or even just young. As my youth and vitality slowly drain from my body and mind, leaving aches and pains and codgery notions and inclinations in their wake, I am reminded more and more each year that middle age has crested the distant horizon and is quickly coming for me.

The past few years have bore all the signs of being left by the wayside of youth. I have worked the same job for over five years. There has been less travel...less socializing...finding a new band to embrace has become a huge challenge...and whether I care or not, I am really losing track of what is, or is supposed to be, remotely cool. Of course, there are more responsibilities too, even a child!

Are you there, Perpetual Weekend? It's me, Steve.

But there are benefits to being 37 and not 27. Like I am hungover way less, I'm not broke, I drink better bourbon, 5MR birding exists now, I'm a little wiser, and with Annie here with us I am never, ever bored. But one benefit that I am now reaping every day at this age is GERI BIRDING.

Yes, geri birding. Although some people scoff at geri birding, I have always reveled in it. Really, the main downside (which can also be an upside, depending on your sense of humor or appreciation of irony) of geri birding is that you are often forced to do it in a confined space with other birders, and you have to overhear their conversations or unwillingly get sucked into them. Something that has always stuck in my mind (I think it was from some standup comedy bit) for years now is that almost every random snippet of conversation you overhear from strangers ends up sounding completely idiotic. I have found that anecdote to be unnervingly accurate - most conversations I overhear sound somewhere between incredibly boring, trite, recycled, or utterly moronic, and that percentile is no different when you gather a bunch of birders together at some feeders...in fact, it is probably worse, and all but impossible to tune out. Satre said "Hell is other people!" and that is hard to argue with if you spend enough time geri birding where other birders congregate. You are going to hear some excruciatingly vapid exchanges, people who live to hear themselves talk, incorrect scientific and bird facts, abhorrent misidentifications...often, all at the same time!

But geri birding is not just something you only do in southeast Arizona or at some rainforest lodge, there are geri birding opportunities almost anywhere...if you build it, they will come. In the sanctuary of your own yard, you don't have to deal with all of those, well, geris. Although I definitely miss going to cool places for field jobs, I have found in my increasingly middling age that having a yard to bird from is pretty great. Yes, Rancho de Bastardos happens to be situated in a uniquely awesome location for yard birding purposes (the ponds behind my fence really ups my yardbirding game), but the feeders and garden bring a lot of species in too, often just as many species or more than the ponds. Geri birding is what you make it, and I'd like to focus on that aspect for most of this post. So in that spirit, here are some anecdotes and lessons I have learned over the last couple years, since I got serious about geri birding in my own yard.

Many geri birders welcome back a host of migratory species to their feeders in spring and summer - that is unfortunately not the case at my house, but one obvious migrant species we get for about 5 months a year are Hooded Orioles, which nest in various neighborhood palms. I always put out this leaky, hard to clean hummingbird feeder for them because they can actually nectar from it - the ports in our other feeders are too small. I did try putting up orange wedges at one point, but the rats got to them...maybe I'll spring for an actual oriole feeder before next year. The adult males are super skittish for some reason so I'm still waiting for the crush of a lifetime, but the females and HY birds are a bit more confiding.

I'm still trying to figure out the deal with hummingbirds at my house. So far, it does not seem like hanging up a grip of hummingbird feeders is actually going to attract more hummingbirds than a couple feeders, though I'm tempted to try it - I think they would still be dominated by one or two super territorial Anna's. My current hypothesis is that the Rancho is not located on a major hummingbird flyway and/or lacks an adjacent area that draws in large numbers of them (i.e. a park with a lot of blooming plants/eucalyptus, for example). Perhaps one day, at a future Rancho de Bastardos, I will bring in swarms of them.

Before I embarked on this voyage that we call geri birding, I would have raised an eyebrow if you told me that Bewick's Wren was a frequent denizen of feeders. I also didn't think of them as being terribly confiding for a wren. But my yard wrens have shown me that it was I who was mistaken...about a great many things. Bewick's Wrens are fearless and cannot say no to either suet or seed....huh! Geri birding...easy, fulfilling, and educational!

This year I finally put up a suet feeder. I waited a long time to do this. For some reason, I just assumed that it wouldn't really get put to use by the local yardbirds...I was wrong again. The suet feeder is MAGIC. I haven't lured in anything rare with it, but it just gets absolutely hammered by the yard birds. The wrens love it. The chickadees love it. The titmice love it. The nuthatches love it.

The nuthatches. White-breasted Nuthatch was a yard rarity the first year we were here. Now? The yard is straight nuthatch-mania. As Frank might say if he were here, "nuthatches galore!"

It has been interesting to see what locally common species have "found" the yard as time has gone on. The first year here, White-breasted Nuthatch and Spotted Towhee only came in to the yard once or twice. Now nuthatches are one of the most reliable visitors, and I counted three different Spotted Towhees this morning. Of course, birds do different things year to year...this year, though they could care less about what is happening in my yard, Vaux's Swifts have been much more uncommon overhead than 2017 and 2018.

Yup, as easy as geri birding can be, it's not quite as easy to do everything you can to maximize the geri birding potential of you own yard. Reaching maximum geri birding potential is not as easy as you might think, especially if you are working with a modest budget. Having the correct feeders up (and the correct feed to offer) can make all the difference, as mentioned above with the oriole-accommodating hummingbird feeder and the suet feeder. In fact, just last week I went from a very small tray-style feeder to something much larger, figuring birds will find something roomier more inviting. The result? Within a week of trading feeders, my high count of Black-headed Grosbeak in the yard went from 1 to 3...and all three were seen on the feeder together! Not bad for a yard in suburban tract housing with no native trees.

Everybody knows that birds love bird baths. I was dead set (unnecessarily) on getting something that I could put on the ground, which turned out to be a little more challenging than I thought it would be. I settled on this rocky looking basin thing, which could be purchased without the accompanying standard bird bath pedestal. I wish it was a bit bigger but it performs well, along with a bubbling rock thingy (fake rock with a small pump inside) to add some movement to the water. It gets hella use, though mostly from birds that are towhee-sized or smaller. Lincoln's Sparrow likes it.

One day, when I am a homeowner, I will build the water feature to end all water features. Birds will be falling out of the sky to use it. Well, maybe not, but it will be a couple of steps up from the current situation, and it will be situated to maximize crushing opportunities, which is currently not really possible with our small yard combined with less-than-ideal lighting conditions. Having a south-facing house is a positive thing in many circles but from a birding or photography perspective, it sucks. Why would you want to maximize the amount of time spent looking into the sun? Ugly, ugly light.

Right. The water feature of my geri birding fantasies may one day become the bane of my existence, but I look forward to the challenge and subsequent avian rewards (cough VAGRANTS cough cough).

Hey, is this the first Rock Pigeon I've ever posted? Only took almost a thousand posts! But this isn't just any old pigeon...its someone's homing/racing pigeon! What are the chances we would be visited by a pigeon of such honor? Such calibre? It stayed around the house a few days before resuming its voyage home. In that vein of weirdness, we've also had two different Budgerigars at Rancho de Bastardos, and just recently there was a mysterious, tiny blue dove with a short tail in the yard very briefly...the brain paralysis that thing induced was swift and total. I still don't know what the hell that was but am confident it was an escapee.

Crushing opportunities must be maximized, even when having to deal with harsh lighting much of the time. When it comes to geri birding, any zealous bird photographer will tell you it is all about fake perches. Fake, as in natural looking perches set up in artificial situations...talk about keeping it real. I don't really obsess over this sort of thing (as I've said a hundred times, I'm not a photographer, I just take pictures) but I will readily admit that a picture of a bird on a stick usually looks better than a bird on a feeder. So, to facilitate crushing, I've got several sticks ziptied to things around the yard, and I think the birds appreciate the additional spots to wait their turn if a feeder is filled with a pile of doves or Band-tailed Pigeons. The Chestnut-backed Chickadees here readily use these perches and now only have a modicum of fear of me (I often reach to refill a feeder and am surprised to find a chickadee still sitting on it, only a couple feet away) so make ideal photo targets, although they don't exactly sit still much. They are also the best looking chickadee of them all, so might as well go to town.

I currently have this perch up. It's an interesting one, I'm not sure what to think of it. It's kinda too girthy to be real popular for songbirds to perch on it very much, but I had Accipiters in mind when I put it up. This Cooper's Hawk made my vision complete. It's nice to have raptors in our little yard pretty often, though the Mourning Doves don't agree. The perch manipulation is also a fun experiment just from a behavior perspective...it's interesting to see how a perch is almost completely ignored in one spot, but moved a couple feet over gets used 3 or 4 times as much by birds wanting a good waiting spot before landing on a feeder.

Although I always knew in my heart of hearts that I would be a geri birder someday, I didn't quite realize how much gardening that would entail, or that I would kind of like gardening. The gardening aspect really makes gerifying your yard feel even more geriatric than just hanging up a bunch of feeders. Since we are renting and will never buy the home we are in, we haven't planted any trees, but it is tempting! Instead, we've most planted shrubs; a lot of sages, native and otherwise. The hummingbirds love many of them but I'm still waiting to see them get a ton of use by other birds, though I suspect once they mature more they will at least provide good cover. This is another geriatric activity I can see myself getting really into someday...gardening with native plants and landscaping. How embarrasing, can't believe I just admitted that.

Just dump me in a grave already.

I have to say though, it is a few of the *nonnative* trees in/just outside the yard that seem to bring in a lot of birds. Birds love our random backyard juniper and the Peruvian pepper trees (Schinus molle) just outside our yard. Pepper trees are notorious in California for being sapsucker magnets , and I owe my yard list's Red-breasted Sapsuckers entirely to a neighbor's pepper tree. But a lot of other species are drawn to them as well, including a number of neotropical migrants, and even Western Screech-Owl, which spent one very vocal night in said pepper tree.

Of course, if you are going to put food and water out, you are going to attract some unwanted visitors. These can range from Brown-headed Cowbirds (above) to cats to rodents (native and otherwise) to bears, depending on where you live. Here at Rancho de Bastardos, we have to contend with native and nonnative squirrels, the occasional cat, Norway rats, House Sparrows and cowbirds.

I hate the rats. I hate the cowbirds.

The cats are infrequent enough that chasing them off by yelling with a hose in hand like a senile old man seems to deter them most of the time. Rats and squirrels have to contend with a squirrel proof feeder and a squirrel baffle for another feeder - incredibly, both of those deterrents work perfectly. The presence of House Sparrows and cowbirds have motivated me to experiment with seed mixes: black oil sunflower and safflower go in the feeders, smaller seeds get sprinkled on the ground. For whatever reason, this has worked pretty well and the feeders don't get overrun by the House Sparrows, though the cowbirds have grown fond of the feeders lately...a source of much brow-furrowing and hand-wringing.

But enough about shitbirds...I will leave you with my greatest geri birding accomplishment to date. The hands-down highlight of geri birding here in the last couple of years came in June, and I can safely say it had nothing to do with all of the plants we've planted, or the feeders, or really anything else going on in the yard. I had been out grocery shopping and was bringing bags of groceries in...without binoculars, of course...when I glanced up at the power lines behind the house. There sat a passerine facing me with a black head, white throat and white breast. For an instant I thought it was odd that a Tree Swallow was sitting there, that isn't normal, but then I saw the Mourning Dove next to it and realized the bird was much bigger than a Tree Swallow, and there was only one thing it could possibly be...a VAGUE RUNT EASTERN KINGBIRD!!! Almost as soon as this dawned on me, the kingbird took flight, flew overhead and disappeared far to the west...I assumed it would never be seen again.

I was astounded. Not only is Eastern Kingbird a very good rarity in the state, it was particularly good for Santa Clara County, where no one had seen one in many years. And this bird was sitting above my yard!

Miraculously, Billy refound the bird later in the day while looking out Annabelle's window, foraging from the neighbor's pepper tree. I got some acceptable photos and a few local birders were able to see it from a nearby public path. Pretty sick that one of my best self found county vagues came in my own yard...a geri birder's dream come true! For one day, I got to live my best geri birding life.

So there you have it, the comprehensive geri birding update from Rancho de Bastardos. The yard list currently stands at 138 species after being here for less than two and a half years, with the most recent additions being an "overdue" Bullock's Oriole and a true gift from the geri birding gods in the form of a flock of Western Sandpipers. May the lords of geri birding continue to smile upon me, and you.

Introducing Rancho de Bastardos

 

This Cooper's Hawk was nice enough to pose on a ziptied perch I put up specifically for crushing. I fucking love geri birding, especially in my own yard.

Big news here from the BB&B Campus...that's right arch-nerds...Rancho del Bastardos is no more. The name has changed to Rancho de Bastardos. Most of you could give a fuck, but a handful of you should be happier...I hope.

Right. So other than this major, multi-million dollar rebranding campaign we've got going for my yard (targeted solely at Spanish speakers), the other big news is that I have once again had the birdiest yard in California for the last month*. That makes five (5) months in a row! This wasn't supposed to happen...I tried to share the prestige of this accomplishment...I left the state for 12 days! I gave you a chance! What more can I do? Die?

Please don't kill me.

The October breakdown: 73 species total, the most we've ever had in a single month...and again, I was out of state for 12 days. We also eclipsed the 100 barrier! New additions to the yard were Townsend's Warbler, American Goldfinch, Glaucous-winged Gull, Merlin, Green-winged Teal (the first teal here of any species, put down briefly by a storm), Hermit Thrush, Fox Sparrow...a very October list of birds. This brings the total yard list to 105. The yard is quite birdy now, as a small but dedicated mixed sparrow flock is typically present at any given time...fingers crossed for a White-throated or something better. I'm eagerly looking forward to what November will bring, especially since I will be deploying a water feature!

Yes, a water feature. Am I going full geri? Judging by my yardbirding habits and when I go to sleep (early) and wake up (early), that seems to be the case.


*=Someone claimed a higher species list for the month, but their last checklist at their "yard" was a 2 mile trip at Las Gallinas Sanitary District, a well-known birding spot at a water treatment facility. By even the most forgiving standards for what constitutes a yard list, this is not at all legit.

Las Gallinas - Zono Zone, Let The Kinglet In, The One You Least Suspect (LISP)

Sorry for the lack of output lately buddies. Unsurprisingly, it becomes harder to blog when you are hanging out with a baby all the time. I've gotten plenty of good birding in this winter/spring though, so I have no shortage of material to work with...shit, I even have flowers.  But before I could even blog it, the Quasi-Perpetual Weekend (QPW) has come grinding to a halt...it's back to work for me. I've been off since my daughter was born in January, so this is going to be weird.

One of the things I've been able to take advantage of during the QPW was my proximity to Marin. Among northern California birders, few counties hold the appeal that Marin does. While I've lived in a number of places in the bay over the last ten years, I've never managed to live in Marin, which is widely considered the best birding county. That said, my current home in Albany is just a quick 15 minute drive over the Richmond Bridge to the Promised Land. I've spent a great deal of time birding in Marin since last fall, which has paid no end of dividends in terms of rarities and quality outings.

The Las Gallinas Ponds is a default birding location on the Marin bayside...you can rack up over 60 species pretty easily for much of the year, it has rarity potential, and a lot of the birds are highly crushable. Indeed, if you enjoy running into photogs who can't identify the birds they are shooting (who doesn't?!), then spend some time here!

Marsh Wrens are extremely common here (not unusual), but there are so many of them that you are bound to get good looks at a couple (unusual).

Common Gallinules are a highly local species in the bay area, and there is no better place to see them than at Las Gallinas. They are totally fearless here, even more so than the coots. Close observations of gallinules will lead you to conclude they are more interesting than coots in almost every possible way, except their feet are not as cool. Coot feet are hard to top. I'm not sure why gallinule feet are so simple in comparison, considering their niches and behavior overlap so much.

Did someone say "common"? Oh good, now I have a reason to post a White-crowned Sparrow. We have them year-round here, but they still are very much a scourge of winter.

Your friend and mine, the Great Egret.

This photo begs a question...without googling, does anyone know what bird species has the longest neck? Either in proportion to its body, or actual length? This seems like important trivia to know.

Don't worry locals, I managed to slip in one rarity in this post. After a substantial time spent dipping on this bird, eventually I connected with the Harris's Sparrow at Las Gallinas. Though not a MEGUH by any means, this is a solid rarity in California, and since I didn't see any last year it made for a fine yankee bravo, as well as a Marin County bird. Unfortunately it disappeared after about 30 seconds, and I was left wallowing around in more common birds...

Golden-crowned Sparrows are abundant and often very confiding...too bad most of them don't look very impressive until April or so. But what they lack in aesthetic appeal, they make up for in humble plumpness.

Wow, did I just throw up pics of three Zonotrichia? Perhaps it is time to brush up on these horsemen of the apocalypse.

Unlike Zono sparrows, Cooper's Hawk is not a bird I encounter up close very often. Practically everything at Las Gallinas is begging for merciless crushing.

I am not above posting the occasional House Finch photo...and by occasional, I mean this is the third one BB&B has ever posted since 2008. It was time. Come on, I know you are programmed to not even look at it, but it's a pretty bird, admit it. It looks good with that lichen...this is something you and I have to accept. Hey, if you are ever going to find that vagrant rosefinch, you're going to have to look closely at some House Finches.

Now that we got that out of the way, we can let this Ruby-crowned Kinglet into the empty cavities of our hearts. Don't be afraid...just let it in.

This is, without doubt, the best Ruby-crowned Kinglet photo I have ever taken. This is not a boast (that would be embarrassing), just simple fact. I dig how yellow the tail looks on this individual, that's not something I notice in the field very often.

Lincoln's Sparrows often fit the descriptions of murderers that you hear about on local news stations...they are quiet, nice, keep to themselves. Wouldn't harm a fly...or so you would think. No one would ever suspect them of breaking the law at all, let alone capable of killing nine people.

This is definitely a species pulling stakes right now; I've probably seen my last of the spring already. I've mentioned here before how they never sing at wintering/stopover sites in California. Do they just fail horribly the first few times they sing each year? They are probably spot-on, but I like the idea of them having to sing out the rust.

A few minutes away from Las Gallinas is the Marin Civic Center. There's a big, weird artificial pond there which attracts some gulls and ducks and has pulled in a couple interesting birds in the past. I recently discovered that it has tame Common Mergansers, which is heck of novel to me.

I've never seen them so close before. That is probably an odd notion to some of you, but now you know you can become #7 without ever getting close to Common Mergansers. As you definitely can tell, they were looking for delicious bread handouts (that's why they evolved serrated bills, obvi), but they are pretty striking birds regardless of the lowly intentions of these individuals.

Ok, I think I used up all my blog stamina. I've got to save energy for the next post, as that will deal with something I've been needing to tell you about for a long time....a long time.

Apalling Postage Rates...A Detour For Cripple...Confronting and Lurking

That's it. Fall is over. Birds like Prothonotary Warblers are a thing of the past. High vagrant season is dead in much of the country. How was it for you? It was mighty fine for myself, thanks for asking. Sure I couldn't chase the Groove-billed Ani, and no I didn't skip work for the White Wagtail, and yes I hate the Northern Gannet...but at least there wasn't an Olive-backed Pipit taunting me down in Irvine. Lifers were had, a state bird was enjoyed, and rare birds found themselves in my binoculars on the regular.

That all said, I find my frequency/infrequency of blog posts appalling. What I've been doing...it's just not enough. This 40 hour workweek stuff...it's horseshit. Talk about a blogging obstacle. The Perpetual Weekend certainly seems like a thing of the past now...can you believe people actually like doing this prolonged and sustained wage slavery? Sure it can be great if you can get outside enough, but that is not what I'm doing. Anyways, I feel guilty about the blogging apathy so I had to get that out. I guess I just have to relax and think about Prothonotary Warblers.

Prothonotary Warbler is a nice thing to think about, but an even better thing to be looking at. This was an excellent bonus bird. I woke up in Oakland one morning, took BART to San Francisco, looked at a Mourning Warbler, took BART back to Oakland, then drove down to Santa Barbara for the night. This crippler was just a few miles off the freeway in Goleta, and cripple it did. Detours are best when your face is left melted off.

Look. It's devouring something.

One thing that SoCal has that the bay area seems to be lacking in is lerps. Lerps are psyllids that live off Eucalyptus, which is fine because Eucs are not native and lerps attract rare birds. The psyllid nymps excrete this crud that ends up making a white, sugary capsule on a leaf, and insectivores are all about it. Maybe the weather is not lerpy enough up here, or perhaps it's just a matter of time before they arrive in force.

Gulf fritillary is an attractive (bordering facemelting, actually), common butterfly in SoCal; it is one of the first butterflies I learned to identify as a kid. Cool story, I know. Ventura, CA.

Cooper's Hawk is a common bird, but they are much appreciated when they abide. You already know this, of course. Ormond Beach, Oxnard, CA.

Here is a dead Lincoln's Sparrow. The yellow thing on its head is a yellowjacket, which is contentedly eating the sparrows face. The sparrow was out in the middle of a dry pond and looked like it was in good condition aside from the missing head flesh. What is most notable about the mysterious corpse-sparrow is that, about an hour and a half after taking this photo, I SAW A FUCKING DUSKY WARBLER. A Dusky Warbler! So rare! So Siberian! A life bird! I predictably got poor looks, but at least I saw its rare face and got to hear its Vague Runt voice over and over again. There had not been a chaseable one in the state for a number of years, so this was an immensely appreciated new bird for me...a true birder's bird. Redwood Creek, Marin County, CA.

Black-bellied Plover is a not a birder's bird, as they are loud, relatively large, and extremely common. The question is, how come I can never crush them like this when they are in alternate plumage? Do they just know to be more coy when they ditch their dingy winter suit? That's what it seems like. Arrowhead Marsh, Oakland, CA.

This Grasshopper Sparrow surprised me when it hopped up on the paved sidewalk. Hanging out a stone's throw away from San Francisco Bay is not appropriate for a Grasshopper Sparrow, but this was a very inappropriate bird. Photographed at Arrowhead Marsh.

I hella like Grasshopper Sparrows and other grassland birds in general, especially after my time in North Dakota. They really know how to work the Economy of Style visually, if not vocally (see meadowlarks, Sprague's Pipit, Upland Sandpiper, etc.).

As most birders in this half of the state know by now, Arrowhead Marsh is the place to go to see Ridgway's Rail. It's just so...easy. They saturate the place. All the loud, grunting in unison...it's just punishing.

Ridgway's Rails may like to hang in the cover of thick saltmarsh, but when they come out (which they inevitably do) they can be pretty accommodating. Being confronted with Ridway's Rails is a pleasurable experience, considering how endangered this subspecies is and the small range they occupy, which is essentially San Francisco Bay.

Lurking.