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.

5MR Birding in Exponential Times

I have seen countless Anna's Hummingbirds in my life and I will admit I no longer look at each one with child-like wonder, or even its rare and highly diluted cousin, regular adult wonder. For example, the male Anna's in my backyard is highly territorial and essentially keeps all other hummingbirds out of there, no matter how many feeders I put up and juicy nectar-giving plants I put in the ground. Just today he chased out an interesting Selasphorus. It's in his nature of course, but still...what a dick! That said whenever the light catches a male the right way or one is doing its display flight nearby, it is still impossible to look away. Photographed at the Los Capitancillos Ponds.

Any birdpunx remember Cobra Skulls? I really dug that band. Imma kick off this post with a verse of theirs.

The golden age is never coming back

Getting out was not part of the plan

You are just a victim of an older time

Falling behind in exponential times

Grim eh? But very fitting. The notion that large numbers of us could be wiped out by an illness that also brings society to a grinding halt seemed outlandish and atavistic to many a mere couple months ago. The phrase "exponential growth" meant almost nothing to anybody except nerds. The phrase was safely in the weak grasp of dweebs. Now that idea has been bouncing around all over the place this spring, though clearly it has not made it's way into the brains of all ("It didn't go in. It just impacted on the surface."). These are exponential, weird times we live in. Things seemed weird...and not in a good way...before this fateful March, but of course our day to day life has been totally upended since then. The Groundhog Day effect, already familiar to so many, has intensified to peak Bill Murray levels. It's not just that each day is so similar to the last, or that days blur together, the other less obvious but still significant component of that headspace is that we don't know when any of this sad, stressful bizarreness will end. The light at the end of the tunnel is dim and ill-defined...and possibly because the light is being made by a fiery inferno, and we are all barreling toward it.

But chances are if you are reading this, no matter where you all, you know all too well of what I speak. It's my job as the #7 U.S. birder as identified by the infallible Global Birder Ranking System (universally recognized as an Essential Business) and one of birding's most prominent influencers to carry on and talk about birding in spite of the conditions in which we find ourselves.

Red-winged "Bicolored" Blackbirds arrive to breed at my house very early in winter and appear to set up territories before any other migrant songbird within my radius. Though you can find them without trouble year round in the county, these particular birds will likely all leave the area before the end of June. I have not grown numb to their presence and am happy to always have them in earshot and at my feeders while GERI BIRDING. This male was making some modest but pleasing display flights. Photographed at the Los Capitancillos Ponds.

The first thing that needs to be said is that birders, like people in general, are having all sorts of reactions to covid-19 and the shelter-in-place orders. I will be the first one to step up and admit that I did not see this pandemic coming and that we would be the world leader in number of cases and death toll (MAGA! USA!), but I am going to tell you that once it got rolling here I knew exactly how this would affect birders. It is all happening as I have foreseen. To w(h)it:

*A lot of birders would have sweet birding trips cancelled.

*Yard birding would take off.

*5MR birding would grow yet more in popularity.

*Some birders would stop birding away from their yard.

*Some birders would only bird locally.

*Some birders would still travel to bird (mostly to chase essential rarities, obvi) but not as much as they normally would.

*Some birders would bird the exact same way they did in February, as if nothing at all had changed. Lots of county listers/chasers with this attitude. 

I have seen countless White-crowned Sparrows in my life but their arrival and departure from California lowlands have always been very significant to me. Now, as a GERI BIRDER, I am particularly saddened when they and their Golden-crowned brethren pull out and head north. My yard will gain no new common birds in the meantime, as my very small suite of summer birds have already arrived. My last White-crown departed on April 24, and it seems my last Golden-crowned left on April 26, but luckily they will be back in less than five months. This is a pugetensis with the dull yellow bill and noticeable brown wash on the breast and underparts. Photographed at Rancho de Bastardos.

And here is a crisp gambelii for comparison, which was foraging a few feet away from the pugetensis above.

*All tour guides would be totally screwed.

*There would be a great deal of shelter-shaming (shaming people in public for chasing distant rarities or just doing any birding at all) in listservs and Facebook groups.

*The number of reported rarities will fall off as a result of birders travelling less and popular sites having reduced or no access, but may be compensated in part by birders by birding locations that previously enjoyed less coverage. The birding herd mentality so prevalent in many regions will be tamped down somewhat.

*Since almost everyone is even more stressed during this time, there will be some highly entertaining pitched battles between birders in public forums on all manner of topics.

Ok, the one thing I did not predict was people hoping eBird would remove alerts and start hiding data to discourage birders from...birding. This seems not only unrealistic, but also really bizarre. Oh I also know that a very well known birder...also, unfortunately, an eBird reviewer...thinks that law enforcement agencies are planning to use eBird data to cite violators of shelter in place measures?

How embarrassing, to put it mildly.

For the number of Merlins I've seen, its notable that these slick birds seem to so rarely remain on perches close enough to say that you got great looks at them. This one, presumably the last one I'll see until fall, was brave enough to buck the trend. Photographed at the Santa Clara Valley Water District HQ.

As for me? I have not left the county since sheltering started (and here, we have the Santa Clara County measures on top of the California ones) and mostly, but not entirely, remain in my 5MR when birding. Santa Clara County's shelter order directs us to remain within the county unless performing an essential activity, so by that measure I guess I have been COMPLIANT...and perhaps you think I am a coward for doing so. That's ok, because I'm sure some of you other readers probably think I am a plague vendor doling out pestilence and death each and every time I go birding away from my yard. Where does The Truth lie? Who is in possession of The Answer?

Many have found The Answer...to everything...lies somewhere within their own FIVE MILE RADIUS. Interestingly, the San Mateo County (which is the county north of here) shelter in place order restricts residents to...you guessed it, a 5MR from their homes! Sad to be sure, but from a purely birding standpoint, convenient and hilarious. Upon learning this, one unenlightened local birder posted to the local listserv about how depressing birding will be if he was going to be confined to locations within five miles of his house. I can only imagine his surprise (and disgust) when he learned of the legions of birders who volunteer to do this very thing!

Some of the plantings at the Santa Clara Valley Water District have turned out to great for migrant hummingbirds, most of which are comprised of zesty Rufous Hummingbirds. I've ended up seeing a lot more Rufous Hummingbirds since moving here from Alameda County and their comparative abundance has been refreshing. And no, I'm not 100% sure that female is not an Allen's, but Allen's are greatly outnumbered in my 5MR by Rufous for some reason.

One of my post-Costa Rica birding highlights this year was finding this Calliope Hummingbird, also at the water district. Unlike many of my experiences with this species, it was very close and gave excellent looks. They are annual in the county but are typically only reported from one or two locations per year. This wee little crippler is easily one of my favorite western migrants. Fortunately, it's been a very good spring for finding them in lowlands in the state, and I'm sure a large number of them have passed through the saddle at Loma Prieta undetected.

Here is my first new radius bird of 2020 - a much-anticipated Purple Martin. Though not quite a rarity, this is another very hard bird to find in the county away from Loma Prieta, where they breed. Photographed at the Chynoweth Pond in San Jose.

I'm pretty sure I've said this before, but if there was ever a time to be redundant on the topic of radius birding, it is now. I know most of you reading this fall into the following categories: (1) you are Flycatcher Jen (who started radius birding), (2) you are already a 5MR birder, (3) you are sympathetic to 5MR birding but haven't embarked on your radial journey, (4) you think 5MR birding is dumb and entirely unappealing, or (5) you live someplace where it doesn't work so well (those exist - you get a free pass). If 3 or 4 resonate with you...now is the time to step out of the darkness and into the radial light. Do you have someplace to be? No. Something better to do? Definitely not. Come join us! I'm not at all saying we should give ourselves the self-imposed San Mateo treatment, but really there could be no better time to be doing a lot of birding close to home. 

I should mention that all birds in today's post were seen in my 5MR, including Rancho de Bastardos, a Geri Birding haven for me in these difficult times. I've recorded 95 species here since sheltering began here in mid-March, including a banner day where I managed a whopping (to me) 61 species, almost entirely after 12PM. I believe that's my highest single day species total here so far. Geri to the rescue!

Similar to the situation with Red-winged Blackbirds, Band-tailed Pigeons can be found in the county throughout the year but they disappear from my yard in fall and winter. I wonder how far "our" birds migrate, after all they are found from Alaska to Argentina (!) and have a nice pattern of vagrancy in the eastern half of the continent, so some birds are certainly moving significant distances. At any rare, it's good to have these humongous floppy goofs back and available for Geri Birding duties. Photographed at Rancho de Bastardos.

I'm happy to have Hooded Oriole as a common visitor to the yard, I'm pretty sure they nest on both sides of my house along my street. For whatever reason adult males are way more skittish than females and juveniles, so I'll take a powerline shot. This is far and away the flashiest bird that visits the yard on the reg, what would I do without them? Photographed at Rancho de Bastardos.

I think we are pretty much caught up on things now. Oh, I need to mention that I got one more new radius bird recently, which was also a new addition to the yard list (first since last year) - I stepped out into my backyard briefly the other night and almost keeled over when I heard a strident PILL-WILL-WILLET! proclaimed not once, but twice, with strength and vigor. Shorebirds are so hard to come by in my radius that I was totally taken aback by this northbound Willet giving nocturnal flight calls. Migration is a hell of a thing.

Semilocal Birding - Love, Contempt, a Prairie Falcon and a Falcon of the Prairie

Common as they may be, I've never been ungrateful for Common Loons...they have one of the best bird calls in the world, forage for crabs excellently and dive righteously. They are better-looking than Red-throated Loons, more approachable than Pacifics/Arctics, and only occasionally resemble Yellow-billed Loons...which are probably a more interesting bird, but I've only seen a couple. Emeryville Marina, Emeryville (duh), California (duh duh duh).

In recent years it has been a struggle to keep up with my formerly furious pace of blogging that once went hand-in-hand with The Perpetual Weekend...what is dead may never die. This is not due to a decreased interest in the Birdosphere or even laziness (!), but due to the horrible reality of having a permanent, full-time job...and now a full-time baby. Looking at my recent posts, I am happy to see a wide range of subjects being covered...Puerto Rico, eBird, Humboldt County, Ventura County, the "internet" (whatever that is), and best of all, Cass' Swainson's Thrush post...but one topic is noticeably absent. Where the fuck is the local birding?

Somehow, the bread and butter of almost all bird blogs has gone woefully unblogged in the past couple months. This blog glitch will now be fixed.

Pick your jaw up off the floor, dear reader...yes, this really is a SPOTTED SANDPIPER.

Fascinating that so many sandpiper and plover species can cram into so many different habitats, but the Spotted Sandpiper alone (in North America anyway) is willing to breed along rivers, creeks and mountain lakes. An ingenious move, as far as avoiding competition. Maybe this explains why they are so undiscerning about habitat selection outside of the breeding season...once they've mastered habitats that no other shorebird would dare to breed in, they can live anywhere.

Sadly, living in California does come with birding disadvantages, and the lack of sea duck diversity is one that stings every winter. Sure there are a couple Black Scoters here and a Harlequin Duck there, but Surf Scoter is the only common one. Keeping in line with this trend, Long-tailed Duck is a nice low-level rarity, and two in one place is a lot in California. These were the only Long-tailed Ducks I saw last year 😥. By the way, the caption in the Blogger toolbar for that emoji reads "Disappointed but relieved face."

San Francisco isn't that far from the east bay, but I've yet to bird it in 2017. I've caught a couple good shows there at least.

In January, very soon before Annabelle was born, I convinced Billy that going to see a Black-tailed Gull in Monterey was important for some reason. I thought I would dip...my luck with chasing Vague Runts had been exceptionally good for almost a year, and I was due to miss out on a lifer...and miss it we did! There were hardly any gulls to look through, and the bonus Slaty-backed Gull that had been hanging around was also absent. The lone birding highlight of the day was noticing a pair of Tundra Swans in a small slough as we ripped through the sky drove above them on an overpass.  Ah, what a relief...a sweet sweet self-found rarity, and a bird I missed entirely in 2016. Photographed south of Castroville.

After dipping on the Black-tailed Gull, I figured it was time I dip on something closer to home...the Harris's Sparrow at the Las Gallinas Ponds in Marin. This highly desirable bird had been present for several weeks, and it was high time I unsuccessfully searched for it. Despite putting in a great deal of time loitering around the parking lot waiting for the bird to show, I failed. Fortunately, this is a very birdy site in winter, so all was not lost. Lincoln's Sparrows are usually on the retiring side, but this one was bolder than most.

Song Sparrows are a great deal more common and confiding. Unlike their Lincoln's brethren, who swear a vow of silence every winter, Song Sparrows happily sing year-round.

Since we are on the topic of common birds that some of you are probably wincing at, this Common Yellowthroat should not surprise you. Sadly, California has just four common warbler species that overwinter - Yellow-rumped, Townsend's, Orange-crowned and yellowthroats. This is not an ideal situation. Hopefully a certain proposed split will pass, and we will have five species of warblers instead. Speaking of which...

Large numbers of Audubon's (above) and Myrtle Yellow-rumped Warblers both winter in the area. Perhaps no bird more personifies the phrase "familiarity breeds contempt". There is nothing at all about them that is not likable, they are just so fucking common that by the time you have been birding in this state a few years you have said or thought the phrase "Just a Yellow-rump" more than any other phrase you've said or thought in your life.

Here is a Myrtle, for your edification. I'm a bit more partial to Myrtles than Audubon's, partially because they have a more interesting face pattern and partially because they are kinda rare down Ventura way, which is where I started birding. Unfamiliarity breeds love. The vast majority of Audubon's and Myrtle alike will be gone within a month, but we will see the likes of them again.

Few of California's birds spend more time on the wing than the White-throated Swift, which are often easier to see near freeway overpasses (where they will roost and nest) than traditional birding spots. The Las Gallinas Ponds are a haven for swift and swallow alike throughout the year, so they can make for a good place to get good looks and poor photos of our only expected winter swift.

Good morning old friend.

Ah, the Sora. Few birds are so humble, yet so successful. You can see a Sora in the Yukon Territories, you can see a Sora in Ecuador. They are pleasant to come across wherever you may be.

This may look like a run-of-the-mill Red-winged Blackbird to you, but this is a mellow oh-that's-nice bird for discerning bay area birders. Bicolored Blackbirds are the abundant Red-winged form here, and females are extremely drab and dark, looking eerily similar to Tricolored Blackbirds. Bright, well-marked females like this are clearly from other realms, and stand out readily from the locals.

A solid highlight of the morning was Haynoring a Prairie Falcon perched on a transmission tower a mile away for a self-found sweet-but-hearty Marin County bird. Well, checking eBird, it looks like someone else found it a couple weeks earlier, but hey I didn't know that at the time. Speaking of falcons of the prairie...

Mmm yes, a prairie falcon indeed...this "Prairie" Merlin jumped off a fence post and took a bath in a puddle. This is what some would call a "lifer situation". I only see 1-2 Prairie Merlins per winter in California, so this crisp blue-backed bastard was a very good follow-up to the Prairie Falcon.

No Harris's Sparrow, but very good birding otherwise...my Marin County Snow Goose was foraging near the access road on the way out. Two Marin birds! Billy didn't go into labor while I was birding! Great success!

September Sickness

September and October in the bay area means GET YOUR ASS TO THE COAST. I feel bad for birders who don't live near the coast in this crucial time...the window is wide open for rarities. Most of the year, it's just cracked, and sometimes it's even closed. Light south winds on September 11 meant it was a day to be out on Point Reyes, and we were rewarded with some juicy birds...American Redstart, Canada Warbler, Chestnut-sided Warbler, Tennessee Warbler, and a flock of 3 Clay-colored Sparrows. Clay-colored is rare but regular here, but three together was a bit on the bizarro side of things.

The next Saturday it was nice and overcast, so it was out to San Francisco this time. Across from Lake Merced, the continuing Magnolia Warbler made for a fine county bird (thanks Aaron) and a Black-and-white Warbler was very satisfying as well. This female Bicolored Blackbird did a good impression of a female Tricolored, but was too warmly colored. Approach with caution.

It's always good to be checking listservs constantly in September, you never know when the news of the next MEGA will come. Checking the listserv as I was about to leave Lake Merced proved to be timely, and I quickly abandoned the rest of my plans and went straight to Golden Gate Park for another vague runt that had just been found. While waiting for the tasty eastern warbler, I kicked it with this Brown Creeper, a bird that apparently has never made it onto BB&B before...weird. Welcome Brown Creeper!

This is another common denizen of forests and parks (like tweakers, but creepers and tweakers are unrelated, despite what you might think), and accompany many a mixed flock. They're ain't confiding or abiding though, which I guess explains why I have so few photos of them.

Brown Creeper fact of the day: You probably know the northernmost reaches of their range are in Alaska, but you can also find them as far south as Nicaragua. I'd like to see some of the mixed flocks they travel with down there, Jesus.

Ugh, I just looked at an eBird checklist with Brown Creeper in it from Nicaragua...there's some gnarly stuff in there.

Eventually I refound the Canada Warbler, which much like the Point Reyes bird was relatively easy to keep track of but exceedingly difficult to photograph (I failed entirely with the other bird). I have some kind of nostalgia with blurry rarity photos for some reason, so I am forcing you to see this awful image. It stayed in the same tree for a whole hour, and I couldn't do any better, but I never claimed I was a photographer. Ahhh...getting Black-and-white, Canada and Magnolia in the same morning in California is what September is all about.

September actually isn't all warblers and rarities though, it's also cuddling Bushtits.

I love eastern wood warblers. I absolutely adore them, no matter the time of year. I spend a lot of time looking for them, whether it is in Florida or California or Mexico (not Midway though). However, California gives you the opportunity to see more than wood warblers...we get warblers as well.

Sibes...I fucking love Sibes. This Dusky Warbler was the undisputed highlight of September, not just for me but for pretty much everyone else who saw it. It sounds like the bird was much more cooperative the first day it was found (when I saw it) than subsequent days; the Dusky Warbler found recently in Orange County disappointed pretty much everyone who chased it (sorry Justine). Speaking of Sibes, the Bird of October might just be the Lesser Sand-Plover Matt Lau found yesterday south of Abbott's Lagoon, but we'll see if sticks around or not.

The day after the great Dusky Warbler Victory of 2016, Billy and I went up to Hawk Hill in the Marin Headlands to check on some other kinds of migrants. This resident Red-tailed Hawk had no intentions of migrating anywhere, but chose a nice lichenized outcrop to perch on.

It's always so much easier to find Sharp-shinned Hawks at Hawk Hill than anywhere else locally. Not that they are rare here by any means, but if you spend a morning birding and you don't see one, that seems perfectly normal. Spending a few hours at Hawk Hill and missing them would be, well, bizarre.

Here's another one, with a deceptively-shaped tail. Note the barred flanks and "pigeony" expression. Or don't, you're welcome not to.

September 30 is generally a day you must be out birding in California. If the vague runt window is open in September, then by September 30 the window is completely shattered and rare just comes blowing through at will. With this in mind Abe Borker and I went back out to Point Reyes...except it wasn't rare birds we found blowing through, it was the goddamn wind. With strong northwest winds, our chances of landing a huge migrant harvest were quite low. Even this coyote seemed perplexed at the lack of rare birds around.

Our efforts were not in vain, however. This Magnolia Warbler (county bird!) was at the lighthouse, and stayed still just long enough to get brutally crushed. Nice to see one in San Francisco and Marin in the same month.

We got brief looks of the bird below the park housing in the lupine patch, then the bird came around the parking lot and foraged right beneath us. The wind taketh away, but in this case the wind giveth a very sharp, mid-level rarity.

See? Fucking windy. American Redstart was the only other eastern-flavored bird of the day, but who knows maybe it had just cruised down from northeast Washington, where they are not an uncommon breeder. That said, Magnolias aren't a strictly eastern bird either; they breed in eastern British Columbia.

Almost every patch on the Outer Point has Great Horned Owls, where they probably are out terrorizing the Barn Owls every night. This one was down in New Willows, were I had not seen one before. If it is indeed a resident bird, it has probably seen more rarities than you could possibly imagine. It may have even eaten some of them.