San Francisco's Golden Gate Park

Hooded Merganser. A legitimate duck.

Wow. I am tired. I'm not sure if this Two Buck Chuck is helping or hurting...it's only the first glass. I got in some solid birding today, complete with two year birds (Lucy's Warbler and Tundra Swan), as well as Yellow-throated, Palm and Black-throated Gray Warblers. How often do you see Lucy's and Yellow-throated in the same flock? So sick.

Right. Due to fatigue, this will be kept short. All of the pictures here today were taken in San Francisco's Golden Gate Park over the last couple weeks. It is probably San Francisco's only birding spots that is A) Large, B) Not Hideous, and C) Gets Rare Birds. It is over 3 miles long, over 1,000 acres in size, and is 20% larger than New York's Central Park. Aside from various museums and a small herd of Buffalo to keep the crust punks/hippies at bay, the park hosts a variety of bizarre habitats and has had its share of good birds over the years....almost all of which I have not seen.

But that is not the point. Remember that fall migration is still on, and you must keep your eyes Open. A dreary and birdless fate awaits those who do not.

Palm Warbler. Rare, but just barely. Always nice though.

Wood Duck. One of the birds that the average human imagination could never come up with.

Glaucous-winged Gull. Maybe this is one of the birds I saw murdering Crested Auklets in Alaska last year.

Greater White-fronted Goose vanity shot.

Raccoon. Hey buddy.

Summer Tanager. On the San Francisco rarity scale, I would give it a 3/5.

Pied-billed Grebe. Possibly on drugs.

Green wing of a Green-winged Teal.

Thayer's Gull. Sorry for the blown out picture...I will have to go back to get better ones.

I Am A Babbling Brook, You Are A Pile Of Bricks

San Francisco has terrible shorebirding. In loving memory of  places that do not have this problem, here are some Wilson's Phalaropes. Photographed at White Lake, North Dakota.

Hello adoring nerds, and welcome to another Monday. A lot of great things have been said about Monday...for much of the Western World, it is the doomiest day of the week. The reasons why need not be explained. Unless you have Mondays off, only a true pervert would take pleasure in going back to work, rather than (*gasp*) take pride and pleasure in their free time. Sure, some people love their jobs, but...that's not many of us. Of course, I am not aiming this at those of us who get paid to look at birds, or those that subscribe to the Perpetual Weekend way of life....we are The Chosen Ones, and we should not let people forget that.

As you read this, I am clearly not working. I am out birding San Francisco. "The City" has its fair share of birders and hotspots, and what it lacks in quality of spots (it doesn't offer any one place that sucks in vagrants like an Arcata Marsh or a Huntington Central Park), it makes up for in quantity and coverage by good observers. So here's to crossing fingers for a Cerulean Warbler or a Red-flanked Bluetail. Good luck navigating your Monday, you must stave off The Doom...or all will be lost. Only when you are living your final days in a nursing home, many years from now, will you realize that you took a very wrong turn on that fateful day...September 19, 2011...the day you chose a career over happiness. Wage slavery over life list. Death over life. The day the music died...

And so much for that. It's September, go birding!