2019: The Year of The 5MR

In 2018, White-throated Sparrow was a county bird, a Five Mile Radius bird, and eventually a yard bird! This was the #1 bird I was hoping to see at Rancho de Bastardos that I kind of expected to show up eventually, and this looker spent a few days here right before Christmas. Sadly, it abandoned us before 2019. Another fun fact: every White-throated Sparrow I've seen in my home county has been in my radius! I would grade my radius as being middling for sparrows, maybe even above average. Fingers crossed for a Harris's this year, though it would not have to show up in my yard to make me happy. 

By this point, every regular BB&B reader has heard about the Five Mile Radius (5MR) and has one of three opinions on it.

Opinion A: 5MR is a fantastic idea and I'm already doing one!

Opinion B: 5MR does sound interesting but not interesting enough for me to start one...yet.

Opinion C: 5MR is stupid. It is stupid because listing is stupid/I am too invested in rabid county listing all over the state/I am busy because I am always doing a big year and need to spend hella time driving or flying/not everyone is doing it so therefore I will not do it/I suck.

If you are of Opinions A or B, or even the highly unlikely Opinion D ("What is 5MR?"), then this post is for you. If you are of Opinion C, well, god help you.

My 5MR is very good for sapsuckers; I saw Red-breasted (above, fairly common here), Red-naped and Yellow-bellied all in 2018. 2019 started with Red-naped (a different one) and Yellow-bellied...nope, no Red-breasted yet! If a Williamson's ever shows up it will probably be in a little park or cemetery no one birds, and 5MR is all about birding places like that. Photographed at Almaden Lake County Park.

I am not going to punish regular readers with describing what 5MR is all over again, but in case you are wondering what all the fuss is about, you can read this BB&B post and check out Flycatcher Jen's new handy little 5MR FAQ page.

BB&B is world-renowned for being a leading trendsetter, influencer, and tastemaker for birding in the 21st century, but Flycatcher Jen, PNW's blogging darling, gets full credit for launching this concept...we are just here to preach the radial gospel. I am a 5MR missionary, if you will, and in the end many of you will be converted, or in other words, saved. The birding paradigm is beginning to shift. So what is new with 5MR birding?

Last fall was excellent for Willow Flycatchers in Santa Clara County; this one was in my yard for a few days in September. There are a number of decent places in my 5MR to check for migrant Empids, but kingbirds are much tougher.

The 2019 5MR challenge is what is new. Jen has invited birders everywhere to come join in; she is tracking everyone's 5MR for 2019, and is at almost 150 (!!!) participants in many states and multiple countries! It's really all about birding your 5MR (or 8.05KR if you are metrically inclined) a lot this year, and we will be tracking many more metrics than just the usual who-will-get-the-most-species stat. She is even doing monthly challenges! You can read all about it right here, and if that grabs ya check out some more of the nerdy, jaw-clenching metrics right here. She also set up a Facebook group devoted to 5MR, which is (somewhat unexpectedly) really flourishing - go here to check it out and join up. No need to sign up for the 2019 challenge to be in the group!

Birders of all levels and all stripes have embraced the 5MR, and you should too! Bird Police, civilian bird wizards, "young birders", geri birders, intermediate birders, and probably some stringy ones...we are all here! Come revel in the places less birded and the luxury of never having to drive more than 20 minutes from your home! Become the master of your local eBird hotspots, or if there aren't many, you can bring them into existence yourself! Of course, there is no need to sign up for the 2019 challenge to enjoy the fruits of 5MR, but I think it will be fun.

Easily one of the best birds in my 5MR last year was this Blackburnian Warbler, which I dipped on twice before connecting. I'm still figuring out how readily findable fall vague runts are in my 5MR, but clearly searching for them is not a fruitless endeavor. Incredibly, in December I got to see another one only 0.3 mile outside my radius. Photographed at Vasona Lake County Park.

Those of us living in urban areas tend to be very heavily biased towards months with wintering birds and lots of migrants passing through, but obviously no matter where you are, you can't forget about the birds that breed in your 5MR! Much of my radius is urban/suburban hell, but a lot of it is protected open space as well, mostly in the form of oak woodland, modest riparian corridors, and some chaparral. Good summer birds in my 5MR include Black-chinned Hummingbird, Vaux's Swift, Common Poorwill, Rufous-crowned Sparrow and Band-tailed Pigeons. I'm sure the pigeons are here year round but I don't see them around where I live for most of fall and winter. Look at this ridiculous thing mantling my tiny feeder! Need to track down Western Screech-Owl in my radius this year, among other residents/breeders.

I've said this a number of times now but there are a huge number of gulls in my radius in the winter months. I really, really want to find something rare in my 5MR (probably Glaucous, Lesser Black-backed or Slaty-backed) and in fact I'm sure they are around, it's just a matter of being in the right place at the right time. This Iceland was casually soaring over my yard last month.

If gulls and waterbirds are strengths, and perhaps even upland birds, the Achilles Heel of my 5MR is shorebirds. Why do they have to be so hard? Every species of shorebird I have recorded in my 5MR has been from my yard. That would be one species of plover (Killdeer, claro) and 4 sandpipers, of which Wilson's Snipe is the only interesting one, though it is the only expected one besides Spotted. It's pretty bad but I will take my snipes. Solitary is possible but I can't even fathom seeing something like a flock of peeps.

Not only do I have all three mergansers in my radius, I've seen them all from my yard! Red-breasted was a fluke though and I'm not sure if I will get another one in the radius this year. The ponds at Los Gatos Creek County Park are very reliable for Hooded Mergansers (where these cripplers were hanging out), which is probably the most heavily birded hotspot (for good reason) within my 5MR.

In 2018, I fared somewhat better than I thought I would in my 5MR. Birding at the very edge of my 5MR at Santa Teresa County Park in spring gave me some great birds like Calliope Hummingbird, Horned Lark, Grasshopper Sparrow and Rock Wren. The radius is real tricky there, with some sections of trail inside and some outside, but I finally got a good handle on it. Fall migration bestowed upon me a nice array of new 5MR birds like Cinnamon and Blue-winged Teal, Greater Scaup, Palm Warbler and Brewer's Sparrow. A Summer Tanager showed up right before Christmas, and the nearby Phainopepla is wintering at the same site again. I finished the year with 159 species in my 5MR without being really committed to inflating that total, which I'm pretty happy about - a few other 5MRs in Santa Clara County finished slightly below that number, though I have no doubt someone living closer to the salt ponds could do better than me, probably substantially so.

My 5MR has most of the expected Northern California wading species, though White-faced Ibis is not something that will be easy to find. Perhaps a Yellow-crowned Night Heron will turn up behind my house with all the Black-crowneds at some point? Yellow-crowned is long overdue in this part of the state and they have been increasing in Southern California. Until then, I will be content with the expected locals, like Great Blue Herons, when they choose to be confiding. Photographed at Los Gatos Creek County Park.

Of course, just because you don't want to sign up for the 2019 challenge doesn't mean you shouldn't do a 5MR at all! Absolutely none of my 5MR birding last year, or the year before, was done with me thinking about getting freaking year birds for my 5MR list...how embarrassing is that? It's pretty embarrassing...but oh wait I am ALL IN on the 2019 challenge so this year will be different!

Well, maybe not all in...I am about to leave for Belize. So long White-crowned Sparrows, hello Tody Motmots! See you on the other side Bushtit, pleasant good morning to you American Pygmy Kingfisher! Godspeed Hutton's Vireo, oh so good to finally meet you Yucatan Vireo!

Right, but otherwise I am heavily invested. Looking forward to checking out some new spots (a couple cemeteries immediately come to mind), tracking down a few self-found rarities, and really pinning down species that I have yet to see in my 5MR that I could reasonably expect to find here...Eared Grebe, Allen's Hummingbird, Red-breasted Nuthatch, and Tricolored Blackbird all come to mind quickly, though that does not mean they will come easily. I am hoping to see some more 5MRs pop up in Santa Clara County in 2019 as well!

Challenge or no challenge, hope you all have a very radial 2019!

My last Santa Clara County bird of 2018 was also my last new 5MR bird. American Bittern was the closest thing I had to a nemesis bird in Santa Clara. Ugh I love bitterns so much, happy that they are possible in my radius. Photographed at Los Gatos Creek County Park.

Rage, Rage Against The Dying Of The Vagrants

I don't see Long-eared Owls very often, or for very long, so it was great to finally get to spend some quality time with one, even if we were separated by a few sticks.  Birding like this typically doesn't happen in March, and as one might expect this is a bird I met a couple months ago.  Coyote Hills Regional Park, Fremont, CA.

If a birder was out to find the unusual, as birders are apt to do, March is typically not the most rewarding month in California.  It is a month when few birding heroes are made.  It is a somewhat dull span of time in which wintering birds leave, few spring migrants arrive, and rarities are very hard to come by...you know the story.  Lucas at The Birder's Conundrum described the birding situation this month as "March meh-ness", which is apt.

March is the month that California birders often come crashing down from a vagrant high that lasted for months, typically starting with weird shorebirds in July and August, peaking later in fall, and often lasting the entire winter.  The shorebird scene was poor last year, but pelagic trips brought me multiple lifers and fall on the mainland was great.  Northern California had an epic winter for vagrants, with BRAMBRING (you know the story), Rustic Bunting, Falcated Duck and Common Scoter, and out of left field we have been gifted March (!!!) Brown Shrike and Tristram's Storm-Petrel, not to mention the resident not-so-secret Common Black-Hawk and the incredibly persistent Northern Gannet that is still being seen on the Farallon Islands that has been here for years now (I'm going to see it this year, I swear).  Other birds like Slaty-backed Gull, Black Vulture, Crested Caracara and Le Conte's Sparrow were frosting on the vagrant cake for area birders.   

So while I can no longer flog the shrubbery and realistically expect to find a rare bird, I humbly await the flycatchers, vireos, warblers and orioles that will soon be upon us.  It won't be like spring in South Texas, a la 2014, but we all can't have spring in South Texas...at least, not all the time.

This bird was the most confiding owl I've ever seen, of any kind, unfazed by its attendant photographers, hordes of small, horrible children, and wankers blaring shitty music out their smartphones less than 20 feet away. I almost felt bad for the bird, but it had chosen to roost next to one of the busiest places in the park, so I chose not to feel bad for it.

I hadn't seen a Long-eared Owl in a long time, a long time, and I doubt I'll be meeting such a mellow member of its species anytime soon.

Everyone kind of likes harriers...if they weren't all over the place, birders would really like them, but familiarity breeds contempt and whatnot.  I'm always trying to get a decent harrier photo, and this bird actually obliged as the the sun began to set.  Peep those hearts on its flank! Photographed at Coyote Hills. 

Look at that half hawk, half owl face...I'm surprised that's not a more common feature in the raptor world, because harriers seem to have great success with it.  I wonder, to what extent, harriers actually use hearing in their hunting efforts. Are their ears offset at all, like an owl's? Strange ponderings on this March afternoon, before the night's beering begins.

Early this month, after dropping by the Rustic Bunting to say "hi" and get my Vague Runt fix for the day (I am a bird junkie, after all), I spent some hours lurking around the lakes at Golden Gate Park. A confiding Hooded Merganser was one of the highlights, as not only is it a charismatic bird, they're pretty damn hard to get very close to almost everywhere else in the state.  It's not like you can find them grazing on a lawn like a goddamn wigeon or eating wonderbread like a Tufted Duck.

Hoods up!  Check out the raging tertials on this bird.

I may not see another Hooded Merganser for many more months...I'm going to have to live with that. For the time being, my days spent frolicking with small, fish-eating ducks has come to an end.  No more walking around with my head in the clouds, knowing that at any time I could go someplace and see a sort dwarf merganser.  Oh well, at least baseball and Game of Thrones will be starting soon...

Mew Gull is definitely one of those birds we take for granted on the west coast...it's always disconcerting when a visiting birder tells you they are looking for a Mew Gull, but then again it makes sense.  They are only in the Lower 48 in the winter, and only on the west coast.  So for those of you who think that looking at a Mew Gull is a fabulous idea, drink it in.  Photographed at Golden Gate Park.

This bird may soon be nesting in a tree.  Can you imagine that?  A white-headed gull nesting in a tree.  That is what they do, at least sometimes...Mew Gull, just for once...let me look on you in your tree nest with my own eyes.

As long as we are looking at gulls with alluring orbital rings, check this bird out.  We don't get to see Herring Gulls in alternate plumage here on the coast very much, and I was really struck by how colorful this bird's orbital was.  Photographed at Oyster Bay Regional Shoreline, CA.

One's experience with Ridgway's Rails is difficult to predict.  It's easy to find out where they live, but seeing them is another matter...sometimes you would never know they are there, other times you can hear a dozen of them but not see a single one, and occasionally they are just out strolling around in the open with the discretion of a coot in the grips of avian cholera. Photographed at Arrowhead Marsh, Oakland, CA.

Luckily for birders, though they are fond of not being looked at, Ridgway's Rails aren't the wariest of birds and can present quality viewing/photo ops from time to time, showcasing their sturdy pink legs.  And yes, that is an antennae sticking out of the bird's back.

There's nothing quite like the golden hues of a Ridgway's Rail in the afternoon sun. It looks like...home. 

Despite their absurd abundance, I will still look at Black Phoebes and even photograph them. No one, in the scheme of things, is above liking a Black Phoebe.  It is the best phoebe, after all. Photographed in Golden Gate Park.

Fans of YANG MING will appreciate this...just when you think you are going to have a mellow day of kayaking out on the bay, FIRMAMENT ACE comes along to plow you into oblivion.  If you can't see them, the kayakers are on the waterline below where "ment" is painted on the hull. FIRMAMENT ACE was blasting their billion decibel horn at the kayakers to get the fuck out of the way, which probably added to the thrill of almost getting killed by a megaship (or, as they are called in the east bay, a hellaboat) named FIRMAMENT ACE.

Birds For Bullshit Artists, A Pipit of Excellent Posture, and More

American Pipits have captured the hearts of birders almost solely on personality alone, although no one can deny their excellent posture. Maybe that is why vagrant Red-throated Pipits always hang out with them in fall...the assertive strut of the American inspires nothing but confidence in the disoriented Russians...er, Red-throateds. San Leandro Marina, San Leandro, CA.

As some of you know, I am in the midst of what biologists call "the field season", when we are constantly working out of doors for long hours, being stressed out, exhausted, occasionally risking extreme bodily harm...and have the lame ability to go to sleep before 9 PM. So my apologies for not keeping up my rigorous BB&B posting schedule of the gone (but not forgotten) Perpetual Weekend. In honor of said seven month long weekend, here are a few birds from the end of winter that never made it onto BB&B.

I hope you all are getting a stronger dose of spring migration than I am. I did get my FOS Olive-sided Flycatcher here on Santa Cruz  Island the other day, although it wasn't a year bird (thank you Costa Rica).

Somewhere...somehow...a Black Turnstone is watching you. North Jetty of Humboldt Bay, CA.

This the Purple Finch's first visit to BB&B...although not rare by any means, I just don't see them too frequently in California. I always thought the huge hole in their range in the Lower 48 was strange...I'm sure Cassin's Finches fill their niche in many mountain ranges, but you can find them side by side in some places in California. Golden Gate Park, San Francisco, CA.

A homely Hooded Merganser hen nibbles a stickleback. Mergansers eat a lot of sticklebacks in this little pond at Golden Gate Park, and they always nibble the shit out of the fish before actually swallowing them...perhaps they just need to get the fish into the perfect position to swallow, or else they will get stickled. Stickled? Stuckled? Stuck.

American Wigeon. The abundance and variety of subtle patterns found in waterfowl feathers blows me away. Golden Gate Park.

Great-tailed Grackle. I think that brownish wash in the iris is leftover color from being a young bird...adult males have bright yellow eyes. Lake Merced, San Francisco, CA.

Although I am writing this at the height of spring migration, I know some of you sick bastards secretly are really missing gull season. Here is a weird worn and whitish Herring Gull...this was taken almost 2 months ago, so it's probably doing a good Glaucous Gull impression somewhere by now. Golden Gate Park.

Although superficially resembling a Thayer's Gull (ok...not superficially, it really does), check out the size of the bill on this bird. Not exactly cute, is it? What we have here is a Glaucous-winged X Herring Gull, not a rare bird in northern California but always worth a good study. Lake Merritt, Oakland, CA.

Compare the above bird with this little bird. Look how cute and neat it looks! Look at that little-bitty bill! This is a first cycle Thayer's Gull. Many in late winter have extensive pink in the bill, as this bird does. Lake Merritt.

Enough of gulls already. Gulls are essentially bullshit, just fodder for birding bullshit artists. Forster's Terns are not. San Leandro Marina.

After missing them entirely in 2012, I finally ran into some Red Crossbills at Redwood National Park, in Humboldt County, CA. The (red) woods were teeming with them, in fact. Check out the length of the primaries of the bird on the right! These birds were literally built to be nomads.

Some photogs would have just thrown this picture out, but I think this fleeing Red-tailed Hawk (which I did NOT flush, thanks) has its own merits. This picture is a poor imitation of what Walter Kitundu can do...he is a bay area photographer who gets some amazing perspectives. Photographed at Golden Gate Park.

Making Sweet Sweet Bird Love

An American Coot and Tufted Duck race. The duck, a born Winner, not only challenged the local coot cabal to races, he flogged them regularly...just for being coots. Lake Merritt, Oakland, CA.

Well, between plovering, assisting The Great Ornithologist Felonious Jive in his next cathartic 10,000 Birds post, and a quick and bird-saturated desert camping trip....I don't have much to say today. Work is good, ravens and coyotes are eating plover nests left and right (not good), the migrants are migrating, and the weather is fine. Here are a few pictures from back in the bay, earlier in the year, that I haven't posted yet.

Have a positive weekend...I'm sure you won't have trouble picking up a couple year birds.

A less-frequently seen perspective of Hooded Merganser. From this angle, it is clearly a Rail-headed Merganser. Golden Gate Park, San Francisco, CA.

Glaucous Gull, my one and only for the year. It is a beefy gull. It didn't do much except bob around in front of me, but at least it floated into some interesting light. Golden Gate Park.

Dusky-capped Flycatcher, at this point also my only one of the year. This one also holds the honor of being a very rare bird. Golden Gate Park.

Black Phoebe. Not a rare bird, but master of the two-tone. Golden Gate Park.

American Kestrel. Have you ever thought it odd that we have all these other kinds of falcons around, and none of them hover? Heron Head Park, San Francisco, CA.

A menagerie of shorebirds. Long-billed Dowitchers, Marbled Godwits, and a lot of Willets. Radio Road, Redwood Shores, CA.

Spotted Sandpipers should be adding their summer spots now, but even in winter, their obsessive-compulsive tail-bobbing captures our attention. It seems like predators would have caught on to this strange habit by now...photographed at Heron Head Park.

A Double-crested Cormorant with a mouthful, and then some. You can also see that Double-cresteds take great pride in their magnificent eyebrows. Lake Merritt.

This Iceland Gull, unlike the Glaucous, cannot be characterized as "beefy". It's smallness is what made this particular bird so popular in the first place, and it didn't take much guff from the mud-blooded Olympic Gulls (rear).  Fort Baker, Sausalito, CA.

Another day at the Albany Bulb. Photo by Brittany Lassiter.

A Weird Time Of Year

Golden-crowned Sparrows are often found in blooming willows and fruit trees this time of year, bucolically devouring flower petals. Golden Gate Park, San Francisco.

Late February. It's a weird time of year. Some people hate February. Winter has been around for a while now, and people in colder climates are starting to get sick of it. The sharp and jagged pains from a million Valentine's Day disasters are felt from coast to coast. Birders have been staring at the same birds for months, and desperately look forward to spring migration. A kind of catatonic depression begins to sink in...long, loving relationships fracture and explode into flames...The Fear sets in, fingernails are chewed off...who are these bastards watching me from the shadows anyway?...and we ask ourselves how much more we can really take...

Well, I'm sure that's the case for some people anyways. Personally, February has always been a month of transition for me, as every year I typically cease my Perpetual Weekend and go back to being a field biologist. At this time last year I was taking up residence west of Veracruz, Mexico, standing on a roof all day looking for raptors and being force-fed caguamas at night (in this case caguamas are 40 oz beers, not tortoises)...but at this point, I've managed to completely fail at lining anything up. Life is pain, as they say, but my luck is bound to change.

Yup...February. Today's blog is a quick snapshot of birding around the bay area this time of year. And before I dive in too deep in to the philosophical bowels of the month, I must assist The Great Ornithologist Felonious Jive in finishing his next 10,000 Birds post, before it is too late. See you soon, bird geeks.

Next month most Western Grebes that intend on breeding this year will begin retreating from the coast to inland lakes. Once there, they will commence spectacular courtship dances and making grotesquely adorable babies. Lake Merritt, Oakland.

Clark's Grebes will do pretty much the same thing as Westerns...they used to be the same species, ya know. Lake Merritt, Oakland.

Hooded Mergansers will be departing in a few weeks. It is a great shame. Golden Gate Park, San Francisco.

Black Phoebes and other "resident" passerines often begin nesting earlier than the migrants. By the way, this is my best Black Phoebe shot to date...Californians may feel insulted to have to look at another phoebe, but maybe the rest of you will appreciate it. Golden Gate Park, San Francisco.

Varied Thrushes are uncommon winter visitors to much of the bay area. They won't be around much longer, as the urge to retreat to the redwoods grows stronger every day. Golden Gate Park, San Francisco.

Raptors, like Peregrine Falcons, often get started breeding during the winter months. This one won't be bumping cloacas quite yet though, it's too young. Point Reyes.

Seawatching birders will be detecting northbound migrants soon, if they haven't started already. Pacific Loons are one of the commonest spring migrants along the California coastline. Half Moon Bay.

A few miles offshore, Cassin's Auklets occupy California waters year round. Much like me, they are probably growing tired of just hanging around for the past several months and doing nothing but socializing and eating...it's time to breed! Well, I don't actually intend on doing that, but you know what I mean. Half Moon Bay.

February is a great time of year to look for weird gulls....herring runs can trigger thousands of gulls to accumulate along stretches of coast for days at a time. I thought this beefy beast was well-proportioned for a darker Herring X Glaucous Gull (aka Nelson's Gull), although it could be a Glaucous-winged X Herring. Fort Baker, Golden Gate National Recreation Area.