It's Getting Late Early: November in The 5MR

This Common Merganser bellows a simple song: FIVE MILE RADIUS! FIVE MILE RADIUS! Photographed at Almaden Lake in San Jose.

And then it was November. Suddenly the heinous notion of the year 2020 is not such a far-fetched idea after all...it is a terrible reality, just waiting for us right around the corner, lurking in the shadows cast by the specter of what Hunter S. Thompson would surely call "this foul year of lord, 2019." By the time we realize it is here, it will be too late.

But Hunter has been dead since 2005, and from his point of view...maybe that was for the best. Here we are in golden weeks of 2019, an age when Hope is Dead and Idiocracy is Real. But one phenomenon swept over birders in 2019 that has changed many hearts and minds forever, and the world is not a worse place for it. No, it's not ID by democracy or identifying everything as a hybrid, it is the FIVE MILE RADIUS. It's high time BB&B checks in with my 5MR, which is running smoothly after a grinding start to the fall.

You may recall that I connected with an Eastern Kingbird in my YARD of all places back in June. July delivered a radial gift on a similar scale - a self-found Red-eyed Vireo, which I found by walking out my back gate out to the ponds behind my house. Red-eyed Vireo is a MEGA vague for Santa Clara County and the first I'd seen in California in many years, though they are more expected in coastal counties. Like the kingbird, it was a one day wonder and easily one of my top 5MR birds ever, let alone this year. Photographed at the Los Capitancillos Ponds.

But after a surprisingly productive summer, things really slowed when fall migration was supposed to get under way, at least on the year bird front. August had but a single new addition to the 5MR year list (Scaly-breasted Munia, ew), and September had only two, a Willow Flycatcher (clutch - they are very uncommon and come through for a brief window) and American Wigeon (a "gimme" I knew I would run into eventually). By the end of September, I was wondering if my radius would actually be fading in fall instead of lighting up. September was good for Vaux's Swifts at least, like this one at Los Gatos Creek County Park.

Incredibly (to me), on this day many swifts were foraging *on* several conifer trees - they would make contact or "land" briefly among the needles as they presumably gleaned insects. I have never seen a Vaux's Swift previously make contact with anything denser than air. Here you can see a swift entangled in the foliage, and yes, this is a Vaux's Swift-Anna's Hummingbird combo.

More gleaning swifts. There is also an eastern gray squirrel partially hidden in there, which I didn't see at the time. I love me some novel swift combos.

The fall rarity drought vanished as soon as the calendar changed to October. I successfully chased this spiffy Clay-colored Sparrow, which was also a county bird. Not only was it a county bird, it is the species that sparked the entire Lori Meyers fiasco from last year! Not the vaguest vanguard but a very nice rarity for the county. I would also go on to find two more Clay-colored Sparrows of my own last month, all in my 5MR! In the fall of 2018, Clay-coloreds went unrecorded in the county entirely. Photographed at Vasona Lake County Park.

This was the last Western Wood-Pewee I saw this year. Sadly, I likely will not be adding additional flycatchers in 2019, although I hold out hope for a vague runt Eastern Phoebe or something of that sort. I will most likely finish the year with a middling 9 flycatcher species, with Eastern Kingbird headlining that group and Western Kingbird and Olive-sided Flycatcher being new for the 5MR. I missed a locally rare Cassin's Kingbird last winter, and its likely Hammond's Flycatcher passed through undetected. Photographed at Vasona Lake.

One day, while sitting on the couch vacantly staring into my backyard, I saw a yellow-green bird appear next to the Rancho de Bastardos bird bath. I almost didn't look at it with binoculars, utterly convinced it would be yet another Lesser Goldfinch, but I am the Global Birder Ranking System's #7 U.S. birder, and one of the reasons you all look up to me is because I practice and preach DUE DILIGENCE. So I went ahead and hopelessly glassed the bird as it plopped down into the bath, and almost fell off the couch when I saw it was in fact a TENNESSEE WARBLER...which was not just a yard bird, not just a 5MR bird, but a county bird! And the only one seen in Santa Clara County in 2019. It was also the first warbler of any species to use the bird bath since April! I was, and still am, astounded. Don't you just love geri birding?

Minutes later, a Western Tanager dropped in. I had seen and heard them from the yard a number of times, but this was the first one *in* the yard. Quite the day of geri.

The yard has continued to produce good birds ever since baptized by the Tennessee Warbler. This Northern Pintail (left, Gadwall on the right) was not only a yard bird, it was a new radius bird! Cackling Goose, Greater White-fronted Goose, and Pine Siskin from the yard all were new recent 5MR year birds.

Ok, this is the last yard bird, I swear. Though I've seen one from the yard once before, a California Thrasher has been a totally unexpected addition to the yard flock, and it has been here daily for the last couple weeks. It's a nice bird to have in the 5MR, where they are fairly common at a few places, but it's a weird yard bird considering the less-than-marginal habitat in the area.

Seeing this normally retiring scythe billed friend casually hanging out with the sparrows, towhees and doves all the time has taken some getting used to. It seems to relish our wood chip situation, as it really flings those things with reckless abandon. It's not particularly wary. When in Rome, right?

I'm lucky to have a little bit of grassland at the edge of my radius. I recently hiked up here in a desperate bid to get a new radius bird (I had a few targets in mind) and was rewarded with a Prairie Falcon, my latest and greatest new 5MR bird. I got it only because I was doing a stationary count in a spot where a White-tailed Kite was sitting nearby - the falcon appeared out of nowhere and started tangling with the kite. This was part of the November 5MR Challenge, but of course you knew that. It was a steep hike so I didn't bring a camera (and I knew I would see something good if I left it at home) so here is a picture of the area from earlier this year when things were green - this is a good microcosm of my radius, awesome open space on one side colliding abruptly with urban sprawl.

Not new, not rare, and not photographed in my yard - I just like Red-breasted Sapsuckers and so do you. Glad they will be around again for the winter. Photographed at Vasona Lake.

I'll finish with 10 target birds I've got for the rest of the year, we'll see how it goes. Some are more likely than others, but all of these could be present...simultaneously...in my 5MR as you read this. A disturbing thought indeed.

American Bittern
Snow Goose
Ross's Goose
Greater Scaup
Western Gull
Mew Gull
Golden-crowned Kinglet
Varied Thrush
Swamp Sparrow
Evening Grosbeak

We'll see if I get many (any?) of these in about 7 weeks! My self-imposed 5MR bourbon challenge is still in play and I may find myself forced into buying whiskey any day now...my goal for the year in my 5MR is 185 and I'm so close I can taste it. Good luck to all you radius birders out there for the rest of 2019...you're gonna need it.

Red-headed Woodpecker...Blackpolls and Butthurt...One for the Herpers

This is the celebrity Red-headed Woodpecker that spent some time on South Padre Island this spring. I've only seen a few ever before, so you can bet I was deep into the stoke when I saw this. What made it even better was that when I first heard about it, I specifically did not chase this bird, even though it was only a block away. A big crew of geri were sprinting/scuttling/hobbling/limping over to the woodpecker and I thought it would give me a better chance to find the Cerulean Warbler that was in the area. This tactic failed miserably, but at least the woodpecker was still present several days later.

Unlike everyone else who were practicing their wildlife harassment skills on this bird, I just stood next to a tree it liked and was within a few minutes rewarded with a crush. What a crippler!

One thing that this bird made painfully obvious was how annoying and indifferent photographers can be with birds. Although you can easily witness this yourself on any spring day on South Padre Island, this bird seemed to constantly have some tool mercilessly chasing it around the convention center, for days on end. It's not like flushing a bird is a big deal (well...sometimes it is), but this woodpecker had a whole harassment crew to keep it as bummed out as possible. Wankers.

People don't seem to realize that birds will often just beg you to crush them if you don't try to chase them out of the state. Pictured is a Scarlet Tanager, not giving a fuck.

To all the colorblind birders out there...I am truly sorry. You have my sympathies.

This female Scarlet Tanager that spent a weekend at the convention center was one of tamer birds I've met this spring. Once she became addicted to oranges, she would do anything for a wedge.

Blackpoll! How poignant.

My, what crisp plumage you have. Such orange legs you possess.

A Blackpoll Warbler utters an otherworldly bellow from the convention center's water feature. It's pretty funny hearing all the seething photogs whine and pine for how the water feature used to be set up, when the birds were more exposed and had to come closer to people to take a drink or bathe. There is some serious butthurt going on out there.

Speaking of butthurt, that's how I was planning on feeling if I didn't get a good look at a Gray-cheeked Thrush this spring. I had only seen one ever before, and that was for a whopping 10 seconds, about 10 years ago, at Marblehead Neck in Massachusetts. Well, my butt does not hurt and my ass does not ache. Gray-cheeked Thrush has become pretty predictable on SPI, for the time being.

More than one birder has told me, discreetly, of his/her fixation with vireos. Well, this one is for you. I thought I would be seeing a lot of Red-eyed Vireos this year...that has not been the case. I reckon this is my best photo of one for the year (it's been weeks since I've seen one), and I'm pretty happy with it.

Have I seen my last Hooded Warbler of the spring? Yeah. It's a sad state of affairs.

The Hooded Warbler is enthusiastic about being near the ground. Not so much as an Ovenbird, but if you get warbler neck from looking at a Hooded Warbler, you are either suffering from an extreme case of stunted growth already or you are misidentifying the bird entirely. While many birders suffer from various renditions of stunted emotional growth, I find the latter scenario more likely.

Finally...one for the herpers. I was told this is a Laredo Striped Whiptail, which one can find many of at the Sheepshead lot on South Padre. Most I have seen have not been this large, or so cerulean. Whiptails are parthenogenic, aka have Virgin Mary powers. The mind reels.

Fully Warblered

This Worm-eating Warbler was working on an insect on the other side of the leaf. It appears that the warbler removed the leaf and wedged it in the bark of the branch, which is pretty wild and crazy. Key West Botanical Gardens, Stock Island, FL.

I didn't see any mythical fallout events in South Florida, but I did pretty good with migrants on my trip. 24 warbler species were more than I hoped for, with a lot of those being year birds. I ran into good flocks at Zachary Taylor State Park, Indigenous Park, the botanical gardens, and of course on the Dry Tortugas, where birding reached a crescendo. Dipped on Cape May and Kentucky, but I am in no position to complain. Again, for any birders who have not had the fortune of birding the east coast during migration...you are really missing out. Landbird migration is significantly more pronounced than it is in the west, and an average-sized (for an easterner) accumulation of migrants can seem staggering to a westerner.

For northeastern birders, good luck with "storm waifs" this week, but of course staying safe and making good decisions takes precedence. A birder I knew lost his life while seawatching on a jetty, and that wasn't even in a hurricane...don't do anything stupid!

Worm-eating Warbler. Looking inside dead leaves is more of their thing...I kind of like this weird perspective. Key West Botanical Gardens.

Palm Warblers were literally everywhere. The amount of tail-wagging I witnessed was mesmerizing. Little Hamaca City Park, Key West, FL.

Ah, the Ovenbird. I would say that this is one of the best warblers, given their stylish strut, thrussish markings and unmistakable attempts to summon the attention of nearby teachers. Indigenous Park, Key West, FL.

My best herp siting of the trip was this Florida Box Turtle that was scuffling through the leaf litter, which is what they spend most of their lives doing. I dig the carapace markings. Thanks to JK of Camera Trapping Campus for providing the correct identification. Key West Botanical Gardens.

I don't know what this is, but I like it. Key West Botanical Gardens.

Northern Parulas were plentiful. Looking at too many may cause the pupils to dilate...so I recommend welder's goggles to shield yourself from harmful parula-watching effects. Key West Botanical Gardens.

I only saw a handful of Red-eyed Vireos, I reckon most of them probably move through a little earlier in the fall. Key West Botanical Gardens.

You don't have to be the Number 7 birder in the nation to know that Prairie Warblers are not hard to come by in South Florida. They are very sharp birds, and one of the few year round resident warblers. Key West Botanical Gardens.

Brown Anole. It's no doubt bummed that it's replacement tail growing in makes it look like it is perpetually pooping. Key West Cemetery, Key West, FL.

Yet another sunset picture, which is further evidence that this was not a birding vacation. I enjoyed this birdless sunset very much. I swear.

Bill Murray...Many Souls Must Be Trampled...Never Trust An Addict...The Turtle Mountains

I ran into a Black Tern nesting colony on my way to the Turtles, and was obliged to stop and have a cup of tea with them.

Oh man. It's another day in North Dakota. There's kind of a Groundhog Day vibe going on here recently. Call me Bill Murray. Or not. That would be weird, I don't look like him, but there are worst names to be called right? Sure. Anyways, every day is a little different, but one thing remains same. Every fucking day I have to endure Two And A Half Men blaring in the goddamn living room for hours at a time if I want to be able to get internet access. Goddamn...who are these people? Where did they come from? And why do they insist on watching this shit? Can evolution skip a generation? I mean, I can cope with the constant South Park, Family Guy, Tosh.0....but being subjected to this show over and over again brings on a sharp and sudden sense of Fear and Loathing. Hunter S. Thompson once said, "For every moment of triumph, for every moment of beauty, many souls must be trampled." This is true. For every picture I posted today I had to listen to the soulless dialogue of a Two And A Half Men Episode. 

Remember....never trust an addict. Especially the television sort.

Anyways. I feel like a true creature of habit. The slowly changing birdlife does, peripherally, keep me informed that time marches on, despite the Two And A Half Men reruns telling me otherwise.

A little bit ago I took a camping trip to the Turtle Mountains, which straddle the Canadian border. It was a good change of pace...prairie birds were replaced with things like Yellow-throated and Philadelphia Vireos, Great-crested Flycatchers, Chestnut-sided Warblers. Mountain lakes contained nesting Common Loons, Red-necked Grebes, and Buffleheads. If you're ever in the state and want something to do other than the gratuitous Sprague's Pipit and Baird's Sparrow hunt, go turtling!

The deadly gaze of a Red-eyed Vireo.

Common Loony Tunes.

Franklin's Gulls were working the flooded Souris River, swooping down for the occasional bit of edible flotsam. It reminded me of how at home they can appear over an ocean, rather than a prairie.

Ahhh, the muskrat. They will burrow their way into your heart. You may take that figuratively or literally.

The towhee of mystery. Sang Eastern and Spotted songs. Looks more like an Eastern, but with a few extra spots? Hybrid? 

I've come to the logical conclusion that Swainson's Hawk is my spirit bird for 2011....I did work at Swainson's Hawk Bird Observatory in Mexico, after all, and some of the tens of thousands I saw down there could be the same ones that call North Dakota their summer home. Sick.

From A Lacerated Sky

Yeah, I took the title from a Slayer song, pretty sweet huh? I usually title entries after whatever I am listening to at the the moment (which happens to be The Gaslight Anthem's excellent Sink or Swim), but BB&B has been missing some death and carnage lately, so I thought I would put the focus back on wind energy. So the Slayer works, right? Yes, words like "death", "carnage" and "gore" do not exactly fit the language of the industry, but it happens. This past month we have started finding bird kills relatively regularly......so far they have all been warblers and vireos, plus a Mourning Dove and Ruby-throated Hummingbird. No raptors. Bats are still getting it as well, but we haven't had any really big daily kill totals in a few weeks. The weather has been treacherous lately, which might have something to do with it. But when the fog rolls in and visibility is piss poor(above), and wind is blowing out of the north (so a lot of birds are moving through), we may get a few birds on the ground the next day.

Speaking of which, I heard some sort of heron fly over my mountain last night, couldn't i.d. it by call......gotta work on my wader nocturnal flight calls I suppose. Bizarre.



Here's a good mystery bird. I guessed what it was before I found it's head, and was waaaaaay off. Feel free to take a shot. At any rate, the turbine didn't cause most of this damage, something had already scavenged it by the time I stumbled onto it.



A particularly bright-legged Blackpoll Warbler (they are usually dark-legged in fall) in eternal slumber.



A female Black-throated Blue Warbler met her maker the night before.



This Big Brown is the last bat I came across. It had already been there a few days when I found it.