The Serpentine Sparrow, The Frog of The Falls

At the end of March, Billy and I were growing bolder about where we would take Annabelle, as she was a couple of months old and seemed like a fairly robust little creature, at least compared to her ultra-larval state that she was in back in January. We decided to go for a hike out on the Pine Mountain Fire Road in Marin, where I could potentially get a precious Marin county bird and there was a good chance we would see some decent wildflowers. A few Band-tailed Pigeons crossed over the ridge and into another drainage when we arrived.

Look at this sick habitat shot...BB&B is "not just a bird blog", eh? EH? Sound familiar to anyone? Anyhow, it didn't take long to figure out we were in a serpentine zone, as evidenced by the soil color and interesting plant community that made up this large, impressive swath of chaparral. A Black-chinned Sparrow was found out here after I moved south to San Jose, can't say I was surprised.

I reckon this is Bolinas ceanothus (Ceanothus masonii), which is a serpentine-loving Marin endemic. It was blooming all over the place that morning.

Less endemic but more familiar, a handful of red larkspur (Delphinium nudicaule) was in bloom down near Carson Falls.

Rufous-crowned Sparrow was the main draw for me that morning. We managed to find one pair, but oddly they weren't in any of the huge chaparral patches. They were frolicking in a grassland just downslope from a modestly sized patch of chaparral.

Rufous-crowned Sparrow is very uncommon in Marin, so it was great to check out a new zone and snag a desirable county bird at the same time.

We unwittingly found another highly local being, this one even rarer (but perhaps more dependable) than the sparrow. Carson Falls still hosts foothill yellow-legged frogs, which have been extirpated almost everywhere else in the county.

These stream-loving/pond-hating frogs love a good current and some good basking sites nearby. COUNTY FROG!!!!!!

This was the best flower of the day, checker lily (Fritillaria affinis), looking all dewy and soothing.

Little crippler!

My bastard girls with some nice yellow-legged frog habitat. There's so much good stuff in Marin, it was great to be so close for a few months. Now I am in the process of discovering the good things Santa Clara has to offer. There's no Point Reyes...or ocean...but the shorebirding is great. If only there were some sod farms...

On another day in March I was back at the Las Gallinas Ponds. Cinnamon Teal were still looking as Cinnamon Teal should back then. All the ducks are currently recovering from eclipse plumage now, and don't look like a whole lot.

What a strange body type you have Common Merganser.

This is a long bird. Beware.

A Bewick's Wren offered itself up for a solid crush, which I was obliged to partake in. I'm sure I've mentioned it before, but I can't help but mention it again...Bewick's Wrens are so abundant and adaptable in California, it's strange to think that their eastern populations have fared so poorly in comparison. Is competition with other species (other wrens?) to blame?

Bewick's Wrens have little to fear from Marsh Wrens. By this time Marsh Wrens were belting it out in full force, beckoning the Least Bitterns (local legends) to return. It only works when you do the splits though, which this bird knows. I did snag one of the bitterns for my YOHOMBSLBFTINFOLF eventually, though it was heard only.

Pied-billed Grebe is one of those birds I see constantly but photograph rarely. This extra-fluffy one was too good to pass up.

No wings. Only fluff.

Adults in alternate have a solid black throat, which I admittedly forget about sometimes since I don't spend a lot of time looking at Pied-billed Grebes, despite all the opportunities I have to do so. How would you describe the voice of a PBGR? Jon Dunn (via the Natty Geo field guide) says they deliver "a loud series of gulping noises". Pretty good, they are certainly loud, though American Bittern is considerably gulpier. I would go with loud and hollow "coos" and "cowps", and a series of nasal, rapidly uttered "hey-hey-hey-hey-hey-hey-hey-hey" delivered in the same pitch. Ugh, I can't imagine having to describe a field guide's worth of bird vocalizations.

March Mildness, Marin Wildflowers, The Pullout Method

And so we blog onward, in the heat of the desiccating and unrelenting San Jose sun, until BB&B is all caught up with current birding events. I'm not sure how long this will take, but I'm happy to put the work in. You know, BB&B will be ten (10) (!!!) years old next year, and it's never too early to start ramping up the blogging activity in anticipation of this epic milestone. We have a lot of special things in store for you next year, and as long as this microdosing thing keeps working, the inspiration to do even more will keep flowing!

A long time ago, in a harbor far, far away, a Greater Yellowlegs was molting in some crisp, clean alternate coverts. It was springtime in Alameda. Is there anywhere that matches the glamour and glory of an Alameda spring? Yes, a great many places...no offense Alameda birders. Photographed in Ballena Bay, Alameda, CA.

This Long-billed Curlew would would soon be exchanging it's patch of mudflat for grassland. Like some other shorebirds, curlews may defend nonbreeding territories - this bird may have already returned to this patch of mud by now. Unlike my species, procrastinating and other forms of lollygagging have not been documented in curlews.

On another March morning, I birded China Camp State Park to see if I could get a couple Marin birds that had been holding out on me. This White-throated Sparrow was not a county bird, but was an unexpected surprise. Around here, March is not a month that bursts with the potential of coming across extremely uncommon birds, so this gave me a good birdbuzz.

It was a very cooperative bird, but spent most of its time feeding actively in the deep shade. Some genuine, potentially legendary crushes were missed, but I was happy to spend some quality time with it. Year bird!

A male Spotted Towhee took a break from wailing against the leaf litter to soak up some sun.

I did succeed in getting one county bird that morning...Black Rail. There was one calling from the saltmarsh pictured below...

...and several calling from this freshwater marsh, which really surprised me. Black Rails in the bay area generally are found in saltmarsh or wetlands with tidal influence, though they use freshwater habitats in many parts of the state. I suspect this marsh is totally dry during drought years, so the rails were probably chuffed to have this habitat available this spring.

Billy has used her powers to make me unwittingly pay more attention to plants than I used to, so I couldn't ignore some of the mellowing wildlowers in bloom, particularly the iris. Pretty sure this is Douglas iris (Iris douglasiana).

This could be the same species, I think they are pretty variable. That said, I have almost no idea what I'm talking about.

An even paler blossom. Is this a different species, or is this still douglasiana?

Death camas! Not only deadly, but replete with aesthetics.

Not sure what species this is, but owl's clover has always been one of my favorite wildflowers.

This was a wallflower we hadn't seen before. Headland wallflower (Erysimum concinnum)? This was in the coastal scrub of the headlands just south of Muir Beach, Marin County. Not sure if there are any other wallflowers with white blossoms growing in the area.

On another March morning, Matt Sabatine and I went out to Mines Road, south of Livermore, to see what we could find. Mines Road offers some of the best road birding in the bay area, and one of the only spots to easily find Yellow-billed Magpie in Alameda County. I got a number of Foxtrot Oscar Yankees and new Alameda birds that morning, including chaparral-loving Rufous-crowned Sparrows. But aside from finding a Golden Eagle nest, the other highlights all appeared at the same random pullout.

Immediately after getting out of the car, I thought I had found a Red-naped Sapsucker, though the bird was distant and I was unable to get photos. Aaron Maizlish eventually crushed the bird, which turned out to be an apparent Red-naped X Yellow-bellied Sapsucker, an extremely rare hybrid in the state. His photos can be seen here. I wish we could see the right side of the bird, but shit, I wish for a lot of things.

This bobcat was much more cooperative than the sapsucker. So far, no hybrid allegations have been brought forth, but I wouldn't put it past your average birder to do so. This hybridphilia has got to stop...but I digress. Bobcat is a great bird!

Bobs usually don't casually saunter across the road a stonechat's throw away while you are standing there fumbling with your camera. They are still fairly common in many parts of California, but my stoke for seeing them is genuine, prolonged and sustained.

You may be thinking to yourself, "Goddamn Steve, how much shit can you possibly see at a random pullout in fucking Alameda County?" Well, how about a blazing-hot county rarity, one that is not a stupid hybrid? This Townsend's Solitaire flew in from up-canyon, perched nearby for a few minutes, then continued on its way north, never to be seen again.

And it seems to me you lived your life like a candle in the wind...so long, solitaire. I would have liked to have known you, but I was just a kid. Few birders have ever had the pleasure of seeing one in Alameda, a decidedly unpleasant county for solitaires to linger in.

Yes, that was from an Elton John song. I am unapologetic, but I should probably quote Minor Threat instead next time.

June: A Good Month For Robin-Stroking

Whimbrels are often present late into spring, but by the middle of June most shorebirds on the California coast are done migrating. June is, in fact, the only month that is bad for shorebirding in California...we have a few breeding species and some oversummering individuals, but shorebird numbers are very low compared to May (when many migrants are still moving north) and July (when many migrants are already coming south). Of course, the White-rumped Sandpiper trio (***MEGAS***)  in Del Norte County was unexpected and infuriating, as Del Norte County is far from just about everywhere in the state.

It's June. The first 10 days or so can be fantastic for vagrant eastern songbirds, but other than that, there is not much going on in the bird world aside from getting down to the business of making more birds. A few late migrants are still moving through, but many species are fledging chicks already. Those that whine about "summer doldrums" are probably not looking for vagrants, or can't wait the few weeks for shorebirds to begin arriving on their southbound flights.

I've only done a paltry amount of birding so far this month that wasn't on the clock, so to speak. Hopefully I'll get to the mountains during my next island break and rack up some nice elevation birds for the year list...can you believe I haven't seen a White-headed Woodpecker in years? How embarrassing.

Black Turnstones are one of the species you can expect to see coming south in July. Many will still be sporting their fancy white marks of the breeding season. Fellow rockpipers Wandering Tattlers, Surfbirds and Ruddy Turnstones will be right behind them. Rincon Beach, Carpenteria, CA.

Heermann's Gulls are already coming back into the state after breeding in Mexico. It's always refreshing to see them after having nothing to look at but Western Gulls and haggard California Gulls for the last couple of months...they are truly gulls cut from a different cloth. Sausalito, CA.

Least Terns had a disastrous breeding season in 2012 at many different colonies in California, likely due to a shortage food brought on my warmer than normal water temperatures. Hopefully they bounce back this year, or else I will slip into a state of catatonic depression. Photographed at Oceanside, CA.

Scripps's Murrelets started nesting way before everybody else and are pretty much done sitting on nests. Those who successfully hatched a chick (like Ancient Murrelets, chicks leave the nest very soon after hatching) will be at sea escorting their progeny around. Photographed off San Diego, CA.

This was one of the last Sharp-shinned Hawks I saw this year, back in mid-April. In southern California, they won't be back until September. Note the shrunken-looking head in this photo, a field mark that is at least as helpful (if not more) than tail shape. Sisar Canyon, Ojai, CA.

In late spring one of the commonest species still moving through California deserts is Wilson's Warbler.  It's funny, if you only birded the coast you would never really grasp how abundant these birds are. Galileo Hill, outside California City, CA.

Swainson's Thrush is another migrant that still can be found in some numbers at the very beginning of June in the desert migrant traps. In fact, people shouldn't even bother looking for these birds on their breeding grounds, they are too damn hard to see. Just go to the desert during the spring and watch them hop around on lawns like robins. Galileo Hill.

Warbling Vireos are one of our humblest birds. There is probably no one in the entire world who considers Warbling Vireo their favorite bird. Sure they have a pretty song and they are a welcome migrant, but who doesn't have stronger feelings for their slightly-cuter and more colorful relative, Philadelphia Vireo? California City Central Park, California City, CA (obvi).

Ash-throated Flycatcher. Doesn't the bird look unusually brown-headed in this photo? Everyone knows Empidonax cause migraines, but Myiarchus can cause aneurysms. Sisar Canyon, Ojai, CA.

This Rufous-crowned Sparrow on Santa Cruz Island picked the ugliest possible perch to conduct its dawn chorus. A resident species, it's quite possible that this sparrow will be within view of this lovely solar panel for its whole life. The breeding species on the island are still singing a lot, but not quite as much as in April and May.

Ah, sweet sweet Song Sparrow breeding success. Is it just me or does the fledgling have a distinct Savannah Sparrow look to its face? Santa Cruz Island.

This Jizz Fest Is Full of Jizz Bandits

Mew Gulls have a good, distinct jizz; smaller and more delicate than Ring-billed Gulls, but lacking the unique flight style of the somewhat similar but even smaller Black-legged Kittiwake. Photographed at Golden Gate Park, San Francisco, CA.

Jizz. It's a word you know, but there are two very different definitions.

In birder lexicon, jizz can be defined as "the overall impression of a bird's appearance and/or behavior". It is most often used when you get poor looks at an interesting bird, or if you're seeing a species or plumage you're not very familiar with. I'll put up some photos with examples. Birders are so fascinated by jizz (hehe) that there is even a whole paper on it, which is a good read if you are a nerd. It's very funny to hear birders describe what jizz is to less experienced people, because I'm never quite sure if anyone (the jizz-teacher or the jizz-student) is aware of the other, much more prevalent definition, which is:

Semen. Ejaculate. Sperm. You know what I mean. I think I first learned about this kind of jizz when I was in 6th grade, and it is still certainly in use. Pretty much everyone I know understands and accepts this definition...I don't think I've ever heard a nonbirder ask something like "what does being hosed down with jizz mean?".

Rufous-winged Sparrow? No, no, no, the jizz is all wrong! (Rufous-crowned Sparrow, Old Mission Dam, San Diego, CA.).

Call me immature (you would be right to do so), but I cannot help but smirk whenever someone goes on some very serious rant about bird jizz. I'm sorry, it's hilarious. The people who do this fall into one of two categories:

A) They are so old they don't know the common (dare I say, "nominate"), well-established slang definition. Odd, but there's definitely nothing wrong with this.

B) They are pretending they don't know the alternative meaning of this word, which is just awkward.

It is far worse to fall into the second category. Who are you kidding?

Birder 1: "I think I've got a merganser out here....I think it's a Common."
Birder 2: "I don't know, I'm getting Red-breasted jizz off it....shaggy crest, dark breast...totes Red-breasted. You are an idiot, Birder 1."

I just can't take the word seriously, and its less offensive counterparts "giss" or "gist" are just obviously derivative of what people really want to be saying. My solution?

I just don't use the word very much, obviously...well, at least when I am birding. I crack up just thinking about it. So instead of saying "that flyby warbler from earlier had Connecticut jizz", I would say "that warbler that flew by earlier could have been a Connecticut". See how easy that is?

Phalaropes have a special brand of jizz...small but not tiny, straight bill, overall medium length, somewhat short-legged and stocky.

I am by NO MEANS suggesting that birders stop using the word. I love both toilet slang and nerd slang equally. I just wanted to be sure to set the record straight. So next time you hear someone say "Damn, I'm totally getting redshank jizz right now", it's ok to chuckle.