Train Wreck: The Siberian Express Derails in California

Spring is a loathsome time in California when it comes to rare shorebirds...compared to fall migration, they are very, very hard to come by. It is worthwhile to search for the very occasional Hudsonian Godwit or White-rumped Sandpiper, sure, but what about Sibes? It is a sad state of affairs.

Several years ago, while I was out in Texas, a freak Marsh Sandpiper was seen for a couple days in Solano County. A Marsh Sandpiper is a meguh. It's a species birders wistfully look at in their books and think "maybe I'll see one in Alaska some day", or, more commonly, "yeah, right". Being out of state saved me from some of the pain and stress I would have experienced if I was back at home and not seen it, and I just wrote the bird off as one of those things that I will just have to live with. Something to live with, and something to die with, in a nagging, unresolved way.

Earlier this year, the impossible happened...a Marsh Sandpiper was reported less than two hours from my house. In April! An hour later it had been confirmed, and I was on my way. After a short wait, the bird reappeared and provided great looks for the next hour and a half. This was not a life bird I was anticipating to get on this continent, but that is California birding for you.

The bird showed off its distinct white back wedge on a number of occasions. Though it never wandered very close to the birders, it was very cooperative. I couldn't believe my luck. I always thought I would see something like a Spotted Redshank (which is absurdly, painfully rare) in the state before a Marsh Sandpiper, yet here the bird was.

It had something like a Wilson's Phalarope X Lesser Yellowlegs structure. Luckily, I did not have to listen to any birders make the ludicrous suggestion that this is what the bird really was. Yeah, it's gotten to the point where I'd rather hear about blatant misidentifications rather than hybrid conspiracy theories.

This is one of the best birds, in terms of rarity, that I've seen in California over all these years. Considering I really like Sibes and I really like shorebirds, it's a tough one to top (though Common Scoter and Salvin's Albatross come to mind). It's not a flashy species, but damn it was a satisfying bird to see.

What is the deal with Red-necked Phalaropes? They are very pleasant birds. They are shorebirds, but they swim. You can see them way out at sea or far from the sea. They look fantastic in spring and not so bad in fall. Impressive credentials. Photographed at Don Edwards National Wildlife Refuge.

Red-necked Phalaropes are masters at picking edible crud off the surface of the water, and they make it look good.

Eared Grebes were also in abundance, all in slick black and gold alternate plumage. But Red-necked Phalarope and Eared Grebe were not the bird we were seeking. In a dramatic development, a Little Stint had been found here two days previous. That's right...another April vague runt shorebird...another April Sibe...another bird I had never seen in California, or any other place in my life. What were the chances? We trolled the side of a salty impoundment, back and forth, until finally another birder got all stinty.

Little Stint! Little Stint! Unlike the Marsh Sandpiper, which is unfathomably rare, this is a bird that I had been waiting a long time...a long time. They are pretty much annual in California, but I had never come across one, and my time on Buldir Island back in the day had yielded only (!) Red-necked and Long-toed. The bird foraged earnestly out in the impoundment with a group of Dunlin and Western Sandpipers...this may sound dumb, but I didn't expect it to be so...little. The bill was indeed slight with a fine tip, not at all what I would expect from a Semipalmated...but that seems like something that could be easily overlooked by just about anybody who didn't have spring stints on the brain.

The internet played a big role in developing the story of this rarity as well...Will Brooks, who found it, originally thought (as almost anyone would) that this was a Semipalmated Sandpiper, but the eBird reviewer (I believe it was Marshall Iliff) who looked at his photos thought Little Stint was a better fit. Word got out, and the following day photos were obtained showing that the bird lacked any webbing between its toes. The rest is birding history.

That's it on the left, being dwarfed by a Western Sandpiper. Even in the harsh light at a less than ideal distance, you could make out the rufous edging to the alternate tertials that had recently molted in. I couldn't believe my luck...three consecutive weeks in early spring had bore fruit in the form of Glossy Ibis, Marsh Sandpiper and Little Stint, a state bird and two lifers. This put a temporary end to whisky-fueled nights of screaming unintelligible obscenities and shaking my fist at the night sky.

I went back a couple times afterward to get better looks at the bird, to no avail. Instead, I got to see these avocets fuck. They sure make it look elegant. Pretty sure people look like trolls in comparison when they do the deed...actually, I am absolutely sure about this.

Even the dismount looked graceful.

Post-coital avocets are just the cutest thing. This is their version of spooning.

Even in the eye of a spring storm of Siberian meguhs, I can still stop and appreciate the rufous and chevrons of a Western Sandpiper. Ignoring Western Sandpipers isn't going to solve anything.

Of course, April birding in the bay area is not all hot-shit vague runts, hell, this might be the first and last time...but there are locally rare my grunts to look for. I live just a couple minutes from Emeryville, so one day after work I lurked over to the Emeryville Marina to check out a Gray Flycatcher that Aaron Maizlish had found.

Aaron was actually leaving when I pulled up, but was kind enough to go back and point the bird out to me. He's a BB&B reader, so naturally he is a good person. The Gray Flycatcher was a nice year bird and addition to my home county list, which I generally am not very excited about. Why that is, I couldn't tell you. Gray Flycatchers are always worth garnering some excitement for, though maybe its just because I don't see them on the regular.

Compared to Dusky vs. Hammond's Flycatchers, identifying Gray Flycatchers is a walk in the park. The bill alone is usually enough to clinch it for me. Grays are rare but regular along much of the California coast; they are much easier to find as my grunts in the desert or breeders (brie duhrs?) in or near patches of sage. If there was a Sage Flycatcher, I think this would be it, but since Gray Flycatcher is a spot-on description (albeit boring), I can live with that.

When Your Mother Is Crying Into The Stuffing, Winter Is Coming

The Eurasian Wigeon are back...duck season is upon us, once again. Be wary of female "Common Pochards", already reported in Oregon and California this fall, that turned out to be Redheads. Crab Cove, Alameda, CA.

It's the day after Thanksgiving. You feel bloated, and being confronted with your weird family is crushing your soul. You suspect one of your uncles of being a Klan member and your other uncle keeps hitting on you...in front of everyone...which is really weird. Your cousin clearly has done too many designer drugs and you wonder how the rest of your family isn't noticing this. Your brother's hippie girlfriend is discussing the power of certain crystals on auras with your dad, who in turn is judging her mercilessly. Your mother is silently crying into the cold stuffing while Rush Limbaugh spews hatred and bullshit from the radio. These people are driving you deep into the bottle...so you better go birding before everything is totally fucked.

Fall is almost in the history books, and winter is starting to take it's gentle grip here in California. It's even rained a few times, which has been a worryingly rare event for the past few years, so fingers are crossed for more rain and rare birds. I've finally begun clawing my way out of a rare bird rut, and am looking forward to what the winter has to offer.

Right. Here is a platter of recent winter-flavored birds. Good luck with your weekend everybody.

Eurasian Wigeon are regular winter visitors to much of California, especially in the Central Valley, where you can see double digits in a day without much difficulty. It would be nice to know where these birds actually come from...how many of these birds breed in Alaska? How many are coming down from Russia? The male in front is still doing a bit of molting, and that's a female EUWI lurking in the back.

Eurasian Wigeon females don't tend to be reported nearly as often as males, which is totally understandable, considering their blandness. Note the richly-colored head compared to an American Wigeon.

Here's a standard-issue American Wigeon hen for comparison. Photographed at Crab Cove.

Spotted Sandpiper. One thing that photography makes me do is pay attention to common, taken for granted birds much more than I would otherwise...this SPSA is a prime example of that. Oyster Bay Regonal Shoreline, San Leandro, CA.

Common Sandpiper is a bird that would probably be overlooked by 99.9% of birders if one will ever be (has been?) seen in California. It's just not a bird on our radar, although I don't think anyone would ever be shocked if it did occur. One thing to check for Common Sandpiper is how wide the white wing stripe is at the base of the wing...on Spotteds, as this one demonstrates well, the wing stripe narrows and fades toward the base of the wing, whereas it would look comparatively bold on a Common in this area.

There is no doubt that American Avocets are the most graceful of our shorebirds. That said, I think an Avocet bill would make for an insidious murder weapon. Photographed at Oyster Bay Regional Shoreline.

When the thought of your crazy family begins bubbling up into your consciousness, remember the serenity of the roosting avocet.

Ah, the regal Canvasback. Always a refreshing bird. Lake Merritt, Oakland, CA.

The diagnostic "seduction pose".

A female Bufflehead uses her tail to come in for a perfect and picturesque landing. Photographed at the Berkeley Fishing Pier, Berkeley, CA.

Unlike where I grew up in SoCal, Surf Scoters are both plentiful and approachable here in the bay area, which is not something I take for granted. Photographed at the Berkeley Fishing Pier.

Surf Scoter. It's not considered to be on the list of face-melting birds, but I reckon it comes pretty close. Photographed at the Berkeley Fishing Pier.

A young male Surf Scoter, perhaps frustrated that is has no aesthetic appeal to speak of, utters a deadly bellow. All nearby mollusc shells were blasted to pieces. Photographed at the Berkeley Fishing Pier.

The Horned Grebe, a flat-headed wonder of nature. If you are a beginning birder and have mastered the Horned vs. Eared Grebe ID challenge, know that you are going places. Photographed at the Berkeley Fishing Pier.

Eared Grebe, ubiquitous in California. If this bird still presents problems for you, I suggest you quit birding entirely and take up grebeing instead. They are wonderfully mellow birds; watching them for hours on end will do wonders for your mental health, if not your ID skills. Photographed at the Berkeley Fishing Pier.

Return of the Crusher

After close to a month of not taking bird photos, I finally got my crusher back. Cautiously optimistic that everything was fine, I lurked out to Lake Merritt to see if I had the capacity of damage infliction that I was hoping for. My first targets were Canvasbacks...

Very quickly I found that any worries I had were unfounded. It's good to be back in business. Here's a hen Canvasback modeling her Economy of Style.

Black-crowned Night-Herons at the lake are always eager for attention. When observing birds, it's important to be able to see how far their eyeballs protrude from their sockets.

An adult Glaucous-winged Gull was equally obliging. Orbital ring color is a very helpful field mark for adult gull ID; Glaucous-wings use pink eyeliner.

Glaucous wings. Frosty.

This adult Thayer's Gull was also hanging around, behaving somewhat meekly.

Who needs sunlight for a good photo? This is by far my favorite shot of Thayer's that I have. Note the pale inner primaries.

The most recent addition to my small collection of second-cycle Thayer's photos. Note the dark (not black) primaries with pale tips, and small bill. Interesting to me, it attempted some half-assed begging for food aimed at the adult bird above. It didn't work.

Looking into the eye of an Eared Grebe is always a captivating, albeit confusing experience.

A Glaucous-winged X Herring hybrid achieves maximum bellow. I wouldn't want to be the piece of garbage inhaled into this bird's gaping maw.

I think this crush captures the essence of what Western Gulls are all about. It had just finished bludgeoning a shellfish.

Too Much For Me To Bear

Anyone who has ever pointed a camera at a bird knows how adept Belted Kingfishers are at avoiding being photographed. This is probably my best shot of one so far; it cloaked about a second after this shot was taken. Point Mugu, CA.

With my brief foray into Southern California completed, I find myself faced with the awful reality of my upcoming Pacific Northwest Winter Tour. The thought of King Eider, Snowy Owls, Gyrfalcon, Bohemian Waxwings and A FUCKING ROSS' GULL is almost too much for me to bear. The Ross' Gull alone is enough to drive any birder crazy, thus the cursing. Will it still be there in two weeks??? It would be easier on my poor nerdy heart if it just left today...the possibility of driving all the way into the far reaches of the northern Okanagan Valley and missing the bird is almost too much to bear.

The only vaguely accessible places these birds are regularly found on the continent are at Point Barrow, Alaska, and Churchill, Manitoba. To get to these places you must be willing to shell out large amounts of money, or be lucky enough to be doing research there. Whenever a Ross' happens to show up in the Lower 48, pandemonium ensues...it makes me sick just thinking about it....

Right. It's good to be back in San Francisco though...life is good.

To compensate for my kingfisher shortcomings, I have become the master of Merlin photography. Oxnard Plain, CA.

Long-billed Dowitcher on the wing. Oxnard Plain.

California is cursed/blessed with a lot of Eucalyptus trees, which are a big draw for winter songbirds. You can tell who has been feeding in Eucalyptus trees because their face and bill will get smeared with thick, black, delicious goo, which you can see here on this Ruby-crowned Kinglet. This resin probably gets into their nostrils and complicates breathing though.

Loggerhead Shrikes are beloved by all. I pity the poor easterners who don't have shrikes around anymore. Point Mugu, CA.

A gray-headed orestera Orange-crowned Warbler. Ventura, CA.

Glaucous-winged Gull. Lake Merced, San Francisco, CA.

An Eared Grebe gives a shit...to Lake Merced.

Some birding spots also afford some hilarious peoplewatching. And dogwatching, if you're into that sort of thing. I highly recommend San Francisco's Golden Gate Park for this.