The Rustic Bunting, Bicolored Blackbirds, Worries and Dread

After having a miserable, sickly New Years Eve, I thought it would be best to start the real birding year with the local Rustic Bunting. I met up with AJ Johnson of Austin fame, who had somehow tricked his family into letting him bird for a few hours. The bunting took me 4.5 hours of waiting to see it on my first try, but I had no need for such patience on this day.

Not only was patience not required, the bird did not at all act like the reclusive, cowardly, nervous Vague Runt that barely showed itself to me only two weeks earlier. It refused to leave the area once it showed up. We were with it for a good part of the morning, and the bird had little fear of its nerdy fan club that had gathered nearby. One could even say it was confiding.

I can't tell you what a relief it is to have seen this no-longer-cryptic bird a couple of times now. It's a sharp bird. It's a rare bird.  When it was found the day I drove down to Southern California, I was about ready to turn in my binoculars and start stamp collecting...which is like the only thing birders can think of when they talk about something more nerdy and obscure than birdwatching.  Little do birders know that no one has collected a stamp in about nine (9) years.

What a bizarre little crest.  Cool bird!

I'll be honest....I've struggled a bit with this bird.  For a Bicolored Blackbird (the local form of Red-winged Blackbird in the bay area), it's hella dark and dull. No rufous tones. For a female-type Tricolored Blackbird (is this a HY male? It's awfully blackish) it seems like it has some contrasting edging on the wings and back that you would not necessarily expect...but then again blackbirds tend to look pretty fresh still this time of year. It also has some pink in the face (much more of Bicolored trait than a Tricolored) and the bill does not look particularly Tricoloredy...but if you look at a lot of Tricolored Blackbirds you will figure out that the bill shape/length can be quite variable. I suspect this is a Bicolored, but I could be wrong...do they ever appear this dark and colorless? Photographed at Lake Merced, San Francisco, CA.

Overall it is quite shabby looking in terms of a color palate...what do you think?

Here is a pretty typical Bicolored Blackbird, for comparison. Check out all the rufous on the back and much more prominent, richly-colored edgings on the flight feathers...yet its still pretty drab compared to other populations of Red-winged Blackbirds. Photographed at Lake Merced.

Birding may be hard, but that doesn't matter when you meet a creature that is telling you, "life is pain". This Townsend's Warbler had Eucalyptus gunk smeared all over it's bill and face, and was pathetically attempting to forage on the ground. It constantly had it's bill open and seemed quite stressed. Photographed at Golden Gate Park, San Francisco, CA.

How would you like to have your nostrils plugged with resin?  How would you like to mouthbreathe to survive?  It amazes me that there are so many Eucalyptus deniers out there who claim this does not happen to birds. And yes, this bird was right next to a big blooming Eucalyptus tree.

Of course, Ruddy Ducks never have to worry about such things. This one is worrying about being round and plump. You needn't worry, Ruddy Duck. Photographed at Golden Gate Park.

Many waterfowl can be seen enthusiastically courting this time of year. Most ducks seem to get the job done by doing wonderfully weird things with their heads. When you see a female getting in on the head-bobbing action, you know the drake is doing something right.  Photographed at Golden Gate Park.

Arrowhead Marsh, in Oakland, is famed for being a reliable place to actually lay eyes on Ridgway's Rail. It used to be easier, back when you could actually walk out on the boardwalk into the marsh. Now it's become a decent shorebird roost, so at least somebody is using it. The marsh is still a good place to get on this choice rail species, as I had a whopping 9 Ridgway's Rails in one scope sweep on this day.

A young Peregrine Falcon. You know, we take these birds almost for granted now...it's hard to believe how rare they were just a few decades ago, and I'm grateful for the DDT ban and the Endangered Species Act.  I dread what the house and senate will attempt to do in the constant Republican campaign to gut environmental laws in the coming years...it is sure to be brutal. Photographed at Arrowhead Marsh.

I've Come To One Conclusion: I Need To See A Snowy Owl.

Wood Duck. Look at her wings! Golden Gate Park, San Francisco, CA.

I am on the verge of experiencing a sort of crisis. You see, it has been established that we in the Lower 48 are experiencing a flight year of Snowy Owls. Everyone is seeing them. They are very popular birds, and for good reason.

If you are one of the doomed nonbirders who read this blog, a Snowy Owl is Harry Potter's owl. They are giant and white and actually exist, although they seem like they were pulled out the ass of JK Rowling. They are typically a far northern species, and are pretty hard to come by down in these snowless realms.

A Fox Sparrow ravages the leaf litter. Lake Merced, San Francisco, CA.

The problem with this flight year is that I am in California. California is well-known for its inability to attract Snowy Owls, as it is far to the south of their normal range, even when many of them are around. The one time one actually showed up on my home turf (at the time, Humboldt County), I was stuck at the Salton Sea on a Burrowing Owl project. I think there is some irony in there someplace....but the reality was a harsh one.

I have, in fact, found a Snowy Owl in the wild. It was in the center of Buldir Island, in the western Aleutians. However, there was a problem with it. It happened to be dead.

Hooded Merganser locked in an epic crayfish battle. The day I took this shot, all the mergansers present were fishing for crawdaddies...the next time I went back, they were all getting fish. I guess it was just Shellfish Saturday. Golden Gate Park, San Francisco, CA.


Despite my poor location, it is shaping up to be such a good flight year that they may indeed make it to California. And if not....I will be spending much of January in Oregon and Washington, where there are now oodles and oodles of owls. Thus my prospects for seeing one of these behemothic snow prowlers are higher than they have ever been.

Of course, it would be just my luck that the flight year collapses in the next couple weeks and the Pacific Northwest is devoid of these birds come 2012. That is my greatest fear, and it has been haunting me daily. Sigh.

Right. Since I have no Snowy Owl photos, you have to look at these other birds instead. Sorry.

Brown Pelican. Looking hella old. I've never thought of them as being blonde and blue-eyed before.

White-tailed Kites. While striking out on a Slaty-backed Gull recently, I took dozens of pictures of this pair instead. It was not a great consolation, but kites are certainly better-looking and more interesting than a big fat lost gull.

The Elk River Mouth and Humboldt Bay. Some people like living in Eureka, California. I think they are masochists. Whenever I ask them what's so great about Eureka, they just mention The Shanty, which is a bar. I fail to see how one decent bar can turn the tide of public opinion about an entire shitty town. This is pretty much what it looks like 365 days a year. At least some birds are there.

A female American Kestrel on a high-voltage perch. Half Moon Bay, CA.

A female Ruddy Duck with Eared Grebe companions. Interesting flock. Pescadero Marsh, Pescadero, CA.

Sleepy juvenile Black-crowned Night-Heron. Lake Merritt, Oakland, CA.

This Mundane Tyranny of Mediocrity

Grasshopper Sparrow. Redmond Lakes, ND.

Congratulations, Bourbon, Bastards and Birds community, for making it through another season with me. As with much of the North Dakotan birdlife, my urge to migrate is quite strong. The Willets and godwits (marbled variety) that harassed me so much earlier in the summer have mostly left for the West Coast already, and their migration path appeals to me....so I will be triumphantly rejoining them in California by the end of the month. With less than a week left and plover work completely wrapped up, its time to sit back, try to eat all the food I have left, dip into the the beer cache, sip on some whiskey and contemplate . 

Who am I kidding? With most field jobs, I generally just want to get the hell out by the time I'm done. All of the contemplating I'll be doing consists of devious plotting for the upcoming months.

Lesser Yellowlegs. Des Lacs NWR, ND.



Now that the Grey-hooded Gull has moved along, The Birdosphere has been pretty quiet lately. People have been sticking to the the tried and true ground of going birding, taking some pictures, and writing about it. Everyone seems to be excited that shorebirds are on their way south, and that the infamous "summer doldrums" are quickly giving away to fall migration, which many consider the most crippling time of year in terms of finding vagrants. No bird scandals to speak of really, aside from low level discussions on Common Gallinule vs. Common Moorhen, both regarding how to tell the two apart and the names themselves. Personally, I think we New Worlders lucked out getting the Gallinule...it's just such a birder's name. 

North Dakota, people, North Dakota. And a bunch of ducks that cant fly.

Of course, The Great Ornithologist Felonious Jive and I have taken a brave nomenclatic (thats not a word is it? whatevs.) stand against the word "common". What does that mean? We here at BB&B are completely against any bird having the word "common" in their name. Its degrading and misleading, and about as interesting as what you flush down the toilet after your first cup of coffee in the morning. If the American Ornithologists Union had any sort of taste or tact, they would immediately strike down the adjective "common" from every North American bird...it is useless for birders and bad PR for the birds themselves.

For example...take the Northern Beardless-Tyrannulet. They are one of the most nondescript birds on the continent. Who thinks its a good idea to rename them "Common Flycatcher?" They certainly can be common in some areas. So lets do it!

No. That is a damn poor idea. I would not hesitate to bet that birders want to see this obscure bird that much more, simply because of the strange and ridiculous name.

A wee Northern Harrier. Not yet a finely-tuned killing machine. Still mostly just good at looking innocent and slightly concerned. Lostwood NWR, ND.

Most of the birds pictured today have decent, semi-accurate names. Grasshopper Sparrows do indeed sound like insects, and spend most of their lives in grasslands. Lesser Yellowlegs are the smaller of the two yellowlegs...a boring name, but an accurate description. Piping Plovers do pipe, and the name invokes their innate cuteness as well. Ruddy Ducks are ruddy colored ducks, Northern Harriers do occur in the north and they do harry. Cedar Waxwings.....well the cedar part is bullshit but it is a nice sounding tree (wait...is it because it's cedar colored???? Ahhh!!!!!!!). Anyways. Let's call that a 5/6 on names.


Now imagine all these birds with "Common" in their name. Disgusting, isn't it? "Common Sparrow"? My god, that is obscene.


So that seems to be where we are ending up today. Write your local AOU representative and give them a piece of your mind. Together we can bring an end to this mundane tyranny of mediocrity!!!!

Juvenile Piping Plovers. Redmond Lakes, ND.

Ruddy Duck with...ducklets. Near Redmond Lakes, ND.

Cedar Waxwing. Lostwood NWR, ND.

Imma Be Imma Be Imma Imma Imma Be

The view facing east from Baldy Saddle, just below Mt. Wrightson.  This was my campsite on Monday night.

I think the Swede was right….spring is really slow to arrive here.  Snow is everywhere, and fills the crew with fear.  Partially because of these desolate conditions, I keep getting sent to relatively birdless places on brutal death marches to do my surveys.  This is not healthy, and fills the heart with hate.  But today we did some banding, which was relatively mellow in comparison....the healing powers associated with clutching a Vermilion Flycatcher are not to be laughed at.  This is in stark contrast to walking through a cloud of cow farts, which I would only recommend to members of the Tea Party, who are said to enjoy this sort of thing.

This male Ruddy Duck at Sweetwater Wetlands in Tucson was getting giddy, and showing off his amazing burp-fart-quack courtship display to any females nearby.

“The Field Season” means a lot of different things to a lot of different people.  For our purposes here, we will limit the scope of discussion to the context of wildlife biologists.  For many, The Field Season is an exciting time….nice weather, discovering new places, meeting new people, working with new animals.  Which is all well and good, and are all applicable to me.  However, there is another meaning for me…..getting to listen to crappy pop radio and memorizing everything that’s popular at the time.

It’s inevitable.  Your field rig has a fucked up stereo and can only play cds, or youre stuck with people who don’t like music enough to have any specific taste, or, more rarely, your taste in music is so strange that you don’t really want to subject your coworkers to it.....so for some reason, the only common ground everyone finds is the radio.

Curve-billed Thrasher.  Occasionally known to gut people like fish with their bills.  Tumacacori, Arizona.

“The Radio”, if you are unfamiliar, is this thing that makes noise at you.  It's primarily a series of bizarre sound effects, advertisements, and soap boxes for Republicans and evangelical Christians.  Occasionally you hear a series of musical notes strung together that can be balled music.  99% of it is rubbish.  Trash.  Shit.  Ok, maybe just 97% is terrible.  Fortunately, I have developed a strong sense of irony over the years, and have somehow managed to derive some enjoyment out of the Top 40.

The Black-eyed Peas, Kesha, Lil Wayne, T.I., Akon, Lady Gaga…..they’re all in full effect right now.  That’s what’s popular apparently….they apparently still sell records, and motivate people to do disgusting things to eachother after night in the club.  For some reason, I really relish knowing this.  Just now, the geologist nerds staying next door just showed up singing Bad Romance by Lady Gaga, which is some of the catchiest stuff ever conceived by mankind......no one is immune......

Look at this dude.  Just look at him.

I'm somehow fascinated by Lady Gaga, more than any "diva" that has come about in my lifetime.  I can't explain it......but I'm ok with that.  Watch the videos for Telephone or Bad Romance, and you may understand too.

In terms of music I genuinely like, you must read this article if you've ever heard of NOFX.  Whether you love em or hate 'em (its usually one or the other), this story should fascinate anyone who's ever given them a listen.  On the disturbing, fucked-up scale, I give this a 9 out of 10.  It will make you think twice next time someone hands you a shot.....