That's Not An Albatross Around My Neck...

No one takes pictures of female Ring-necked Ducks unless they absolutely have to....that all changes today. Santee Lakes, Santee, CA.

I forgot how working really gets in the way of one's birding...and I get paid to look at birds. Of course, most of my time now is spent staring at the ground, in an attempt to find the highly-camouflaged nest of a Snowy Plover.

So, spring on the west coast. What can I say? A lot of migrant passerines seem (predictably) a bit early, but so far its business as usual for many other northbound birds. The year birds are still coming strong (Ash-throated Flycatcher was the most recent), and I look forward to going migrant-hunting this spring...although I may be out of luck in the short term.

Why? It's because of my 1999 Honda Accord, whom I harbor a withering hatred for. This car has been cursed from the very beginning (indeed, unbeknownst to me, it had a recall out for it when I bought it) and has been sucking on my financial reserves like a giant metal lamprey ever since. It seems to be the archetypal piece of machinery for "planned obsolescence", if anyone is savvy with product jargon. It would be better off used as target practice than to drive. Perhaps it is well-suited to be dropped into the ocean, for use by marine life as some kind of artificial reef. Anyways...depending on how things go, I may find my time off in the next month spent car-shopping instead of birding, which is a giant bummer. Just thinking about it fills my heart with hate...but it will be nice to not have a Honda hanging around my neck for any longer.

Right. Well I hope you all are getting out there, binoculars in hand, popping pupils at salient spring migrants. It is, after all, what is best.

Reddish Egret is one of my favorite birds. They have style and swagger. I've also never had the opportunity to get any great pictures of them, so this will have to do for now. J Street Mudflats, Chula Vista, CA.

Red-breasted Merganser. I think it wins the award for Most Haphazard Crest. J Street Mudflats.

Orange-crowned Warbler. They are the most basic western warbler. Primitive even, in their lack of adornments, changeless plumages, and unimaginative songs. That said, I still like them. Mission Trails Regional Park, CA.

Hooded Orioles are one of the earliest spring bids to arrive here every year, and can be found holding down palm trees throughout the summer. Santee Lakes, CA.

This is the rarely seen hover-mode of the Western Bluebird. No wings required. This is their preferred mode of transport while collecting nesting material. Santee Lakes, CA.

A more traditional pose.

You know its a dark day when a Violet-green Swallow manages to have all of its color washed away. This picture makes me think of storm-petrels, for some reason. Santee Lakes.

Mysterious Parakeets of Gloom. Famosa Slough, San Diego, CA.

American Wigeon pair. Another month and they will probably be all gone. I think the female actually looks better than the male in this shot...nice edgings! Santee Lakes, CA.

A Wood Duck lets loose a half-hearted bellow. Wood Ducks are plentiful and friendly at Santee Lakes, the result of a successful reintroduction program. Unlike the wigeon, the ring-neck, and the merganser, they will be staying around to bellow all summer long.

A Cooper's Hawk catches a thermal. Mission Trails Regional Park, CA.

They Called Him "Fuligula"

Every part of the country has it's "specialty" rarities. The northeast gets European birds. Florida gets birds from the Carribean. Texas and Arizona suck up Mexican specialties. The West Coast gets Asians.

Yup. There are a lot of Asians around these parts. I am half Asian myself, which gives me Hybrid Vigor. Of course, birders here are just as disproportionately white as anywhere else, but we are not talking about that. No, when I'm talking about Asians, I'm talking about birds.

Of course, we don't get the volume of Asian Awesomeness that Alaska does, but we do get our share. In the last few months I've been lucky enough to see Falcated Duck, Red-throated Pipit, Brambling, Ruff, Sharp-tailed Sandpiper, and a couple of Tufted Ducks. Maybe I've seen all of these birds because of my Hybrid Vigor.

Tufted Ducks occur regularly every winter from Washington south to the bay area, and sometimes further, making them the most dependable Asiafowl to find aside from the comparatively abundant Eurasian Wigeon and "Common" Teal.

As you can see in this photograph, Tufted Ducks are clearly awesome. Have you seen one? No? Well come visit Lake Merritt in Oakland, California, where this dude spends every winter. Although it's often passed out with the scaup flock in the middle of the lake, you can occasionally find it lurking just a few feet from shore. I last saw the bird yesterday (February 9), so if you're in the area, come on by.

Per my normal policy, I will now intentionally not begin talking about how to identify Tufted Ducks. That would be boring and redundant, as you probably have your own bird books, and as you can see it has a giant tuft sticking out of the back of its head, which is indicative of it being a Tufted Duck.

Here's our Tufted friend with cousins, Greater Scaup (middle) and Ring-necked Duck (right). Obviously, they all look different. Sorry I couldn't get any Lesser Scaup in to the frame.

Like Greater and Lesser Scaup, the color of a drake's head is dependent on the light. Sometimes they have green, and sometimes purple heads. Not useful for identification, but a nice aesthetic touch.

Tufted Ducks can be hard to spot. Even when they're right in front of you. You should still be embarrassed though.

Tufted Ducks are easiest to spot when you happen to be positioned within 10 feet of the bird, preferably when it's directly beneath you. In fact, I recommend this method highly. That said, I have met more than one Lake Merritt birder who failed to notice the Tufted Duck sitting within petting distance from shore, which has heavy implications, to say the least...

Here it is, the shot you've been waiting for...The Bellowing Tufted. I would describe the listening experience as similar to what it would be like to have two (2) Amazonian Giant Centipedes in your ears, sinking their horrible fangs into your ear drums and sending you into terminal brain paralysis.

Tuft tuft tuft.

Since Tufted Ducks spend inordinate amounts of time being rare and making birders wet their pants, they need to get their shut-eye.

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.

Waiting To See What The Maker Has In Mind

Down in the mines of BB&B, my laborers have been working night and day to bring you another free-standing page on The Human Birdwatcher Project, with links to all relevant posts.

If you are not familiar with HBP, it is on the jagged, rusty, artery-slicing cutting-edge of birder research. We are practically alone in this field. Bizarrely, it should interest both the non-birder and birder alike, kind of like Winged Migration or March Of The Penguins, but much better. With some of the implications that we are coming up with...things will never be the same.

Some of the posts are recent, some are from the depths of the murky past.....please go educate yourself on.....er....yourself. It will be updated on a regular basis.

The days are rapidly counting down until I'm off to Eastern Mexico for a bit. Frankly, the wall of new birds I will encounter scares me. It is more like a wailing wall. When that female sabrewing goes whizzing by and Im unable to identify it, I will have no recourse but to break down in tears. Sad, I know, but birds south of the border have always seemed distant and unattainable to me, and I don't know what they might do to me. I'm much more acclimated to things like Northern Pintails (above), which work well within the Economy Of Style.

Hooded Merganser, known simply as HOME in some circles. San Francisco, CA.

But, birds like motmots, euphonias and grosbeaks have nothing to do with that economy. They are decadent in their blues, greens, yellows, reds, and the infinite number of indescribable shades that lie between. True eye-candy for the birder. Particularly exciting is the possibility of seeing a suite of new hawks, eagles and falcons...aside from the holy Gyrfalcon, I'm about tapped out for those in the United states. But what am I talking about? If I can avoid food poisoning, robbery or running into any of those cartel folk ya'll hear so much about, its all going to one big facemelt.

A drake Gadwall reminds us what one can do within the boundaries of The Economy Of Style. Martinez, CA.

Ring-necked Duck. When are they going to change the name to Ring-billed Duck? Sheesh. San Francisco, CA.

Right....better stop talking about myself....don't want to come off too narcissistic. Theme of the day? Ducks. That's one thing the bay area has a lot of this time of year. So for all you snowbound, landlocked birders who are trying to get by on Mallards, here's some extra color. Happy Friday to all you working folk, and to my unemployed brothers and sisters, her's to another day of The Good Life.

Green-winged Teal. Frakking adorable. Redwood Shores, CA.

Please Don't Pray For Me, I Get By

An existential Ring-necked Duck ponders its reflection. Golden Gate Park, San Francisco.

Wow. The whole year list thing has really stalled. I've gone a whole month without adding a single bird. Of course, thats easy to do when you refuse to chase anything simply for the sake of putting it on your year list. This is borne out of three (3) factors: laziness, gas-wasting guilt, and my ceasing to update my county lists in California. If I did not suffer from these ailments, I would be motivated to drive and bird a lot more. But as things stand....no regrets! 

Western Bluebird. Little more needs to be said. Morro Bay, CA.

Right now, I'm at 387 or so, which is really modest. This includes birding in coastal California, southeast Arizona, the northern end of the Gulf of California (yes, thats Mexico), and coastal/offshore Alaska. Basically, I'll be happy just getting to 400. I'm not really competing with anyone (all my other nerd-friends keeping track have much higher totals), and no one will fault me with taking quality over quantity this year. We've already discussed this, but I really like talking about it, so we will do so again. For example, last year the only new shorebird I saw was Upland Sandpiper (PENNSYLVANIAFTW!!!). This year, its Common Sandpiper, Long-toed Stint, Red-necked Stint, Wood Sandpiper....not bad, eh? Gotta love them Eurasian pipers.

A probable Glaucous X Herring Gull. They are best identified by their love of fried chicken. Golden Gate Park, San Francisco.

Here in San Francisco, there's not much to add. There's an Indigo Bunting at Golden Gate Park, a Northern Parula at Ferry Park, a Clapper Rail at Heron Head Park....I don't know. I can't seem to get excited about them, though I have a deep and powerful love for all these species. My chasing instinct appears to be waning. But fear not BB&B fans, December will hold a flurry of birding....its up to Arcata this week for the Brown Shrike and other avian goodness, and I think I'll get some birding done in southern California later this month. I'm looking forward to it.

A Savannah Sparrow lurks. Morro Bay, CA.

So all in all, the Y2K10 list is going to be heavy on region-specific specialties (particularly southeastern Arizona birds and Aleutian Island seabirds and migrants) and totally lacking in birds that are relatively widespread and easy to see in a lot of places (i.e. American Redstart, Clark's Nutcracker, things like that). I think I'll end up about where I did last year actually (although I don't have a number for that), It's fine. Everything's fine. I'm not one to jump the shark. That said, this is all boring, dorky power-birder stuff, so I'll quit while I'm ahead. Toodles!

PS For more on guilt-free Big Years, check out Keith Hansen's blog here and Jim Royer's blog here! They've got some beefy totals for 2010, and are definitely on to something.

This pair of Horned Grebes have made the journey to the end of East Bay. Berkeley, CA.