Trembling and Giddiness, Globetrotters, Winning Hearts and Minds with Weird

Shorebirds.  Gotta love 'em. I've always loved shorebirds...the first rare birds I ever saw, on the same day, were a god damned Mountain Plover and a fucking Ruff.  So an affection shorebirds is deeply ingrained in me.

I recently went out to Alameda in order to track down my county Baird's Sandpiper, something I used to see on the regular...but for some reason it has not been a forthcoming bird for me in recent years, at least here in the bay area. The juvenile Baird's was easy to find, and quickly the outing devolved from a noble chase into a gluttonous crush fest of small shorebirds. This Baird's was the most cooperative of its species I have ever met, and its proximity caused much trembling and giddiness.

The birds were feeding on a big mat of algae that had piled up along a breakwater at the north end of the Elsie Roemer Bird Sanctuary, which can be a great shorebirding spot at the right tide...considering the number of birds that pile up there, the place is overdue for a solid rarity I reckon. The number of flies feeding on the algae was staggering, and the peeps were loving it.

Baird's Sandpipers have longs wings!  So majestic.

Sorry if you thought that last shot was too far away. Here is a closer one.

Most Western Sandpipers I've seen lately have been juveniles, only a few months old.  I can't fathom how these birds (and many other species) hatch on the tundra and then migrate thousands of miles away in the correct direction a few months later. Well, I can fathom it, but it's still a difficult thing to accept.  A human being is essentially worthless at three months of age, and a peep is a globetrotter.

There are a lot of juvenile Least Sandpipers around now as well. Some of these birds are very bright...too bad their reward for making it through their first year will be looking incredibly drab for the rest of their lives.

These tiny flies must look enormous and juicy if you are the size of a Least Sandpiper.

Black Turnstones will abandon their rocky strongholds if there is enough food to attempt them.

There are a lot of crisp juvenile Sanderlings around now as well. While they do have a distinct preference for wintering in saltwater/brackish habitats, they can do it about anywhere. This bird could decide to drop anchor here in San Francisco Bay for the winter or keep going all the way down to Chile or Argentina.

Black Oystercatchers hold down the breakwater with bigger breakwater buddies.

I haven't been to Radio Road in days. By days, I mean hella days, like hundreds of them. They had some avian cholera popping off in the ponds last year so they had them all drained for a while. Eventually they refilled the ponds and it is essentially back to the good birding spot it once was. A bunch of Forster's Terns bred there this year, so I thought I would lurk down to check out the tern scene and see if any interesting shorebirds could be parsed out from the masses.

There were terns of all ages present...tiny downy chicks, recently fledged juveniles (like this one), and somewhat haggard looking adults.

Whenever an adult tern would fly by, all the juveniles would start begging in unison.

Even the juveniles have some burgeoning elegance in them, although it is mostly buried under young awkwardness.

A pair of Black Skimmers were also present, looking weird as usual and being generally enjoyable to look at. Skimmers never fail to make a mark on someone who has not seen one before. Most birds that are so good at leaving an impression are either majestic, facemelting...or an owl. People really like owls. Skimmers win over hearts and minds by just being weird.

Radio Road is the best spot in northern California to see skimmers, which are irregular north of Santa Barbara County. The birds are pretty reliable for a good chunk of the year and do not require any sort of scoping to get a decent look at.

Hella shorebirds at Radio Road, as usual, but nothing weird outside of a couple Lesser Yellowlegs. Here is an s-shaped roost for the hell of it.

No, I'm not going to do a "why did the tern cross the street" joke, that would be highly regrettable and ultimately tragic. Radio Road is in Redwood Shores and is a good place shorebirds, waterfowl (Eurasian Wigeon in winter) and crushing in general, it's a good spot to check out if you're visiting the bay or want to take a beginner out birding.

Bellowing Ducks

Have you ever looked down the throat of a living, breathing Greater Scaup? If you have, then you have seen Hell. Photographed at Lake Merritt, CA.

There is nothing worse in the bird world than having to withstand the horrible bellowing of waterfowl.  Their piercing and horrible cries are enough to bring anyone to their knees. Today BB&B will provide the service of showcasing various bellowing ducks, without forcing you to listen to their wretched, ungodly sounds. You can thank me now.

Here is the same scaup uttering its war cry yet again. This is it's classic combat pose; as you can see, its foot is poised for skull crushing.

Cinnamon Teal specialize in bellowing from shrubs, just above the water....where you would least expect them. Photographed at Radio Road, Redwood Shores, CA.

The thick tongue of the Canvasback assists it in uttering bass-filled, guttaral tones that can liquify the skeletons of its prey. Lake Merritt, CA.

You too may someday meet your destiny between the dark, betoothed mandibles of a Hooded Merganser. Pray that its terrible shrieks end your life first. Golden Gate Park, San Francisco, CA.

Everyone knows that being bellowed at by females is far more unpleasant than getting an earful by males. This Redhead was at Lake Merritt, Oakland, CA.

That's right...dual bellowing. The blood and feathers will fly. I wish I had photographed these birds on some remote river in Central America, but these birds live in Golden Gate Park. They usually sleep right next to each other and don't do anything else, but any relationship can get strained...

This Northern Pintail hen has contorted herself into Ultimate Bellowing Position. Be very afraid. Radio Road, CA.

The cry of the Ring-necked Duck will bring the death rattle to your bones in a matter of seconds. Golden Gate Park, CA.

This Common Goldeneye has assumed the position of Alpha Bellow. If you ever see a goldeneye do this, not only will you suffer a terrible, unspeakable fate, but so will your first-born child. Just avoid looking at medium and large bodies of water for the rest of your life and you will be fine. Lake Merritt, CA.