South Bay Winter Slumber

While Santa Clara is not known as one of the premiere gulling counties in the state, that is not because there are a lack of gulls. There are many thousands of Herring Gulls (like the one above) in the county right now, and where there are Herring Gulls there are rare gulls...sometimes anyway. I have at least managed a Santa Clara Glaucous Gull already this year and a 5MR Western Gull, which I didn't see in the radius until November last year. Photographed at Don Edwards NWR.

Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh it's February. I don't know how I feel about that. It sure got here quickly, and as I say in BB&B pretty much every year I'm leery of March birding around these parts. Things have been pretty slow this winter here in Santa Clara, especially if you opt to not attempt feverish county year birding and rechase all the rarities you already chased a month or two ago, or the previous winter. But! But. BUT...the middle of winter is generally a great time to be birding around these parts. If you really need to see a rarity or a year bird or whatever every time you go birding, then just give up birding and be honest with yourself and everyone else...you are not a birder. You are a chaser. You don't enjoy the activity of birdwatching, you like birdchasing.

I think the quasi-elitist and increasingly obsolete notion that listing is something to scoff at now borders on being something to scoff at itself. Let's face it, most of us have bird lists that we care about. Listing is not the problem here, heck chasing isn't even the problem. I happily chase stuff on the reg and recommend it highly. The problem is when you get so locked into certain lists that they dictate that you run after other people's birds every time you go out. Going out with the hopes of finding something interesting yourself, once standard practice when one went out birding, is becoming increasingly uncommon and comparatively bold.

Is it time for a great schism in birding? Is it time for the strict chasers to separate themselves from the rest of us? There is already a large and still growing subset of photogs who seem to chase every rarity but never find anything rare themselves. Something to ponder on a cool February day.

But now that I've begun to peel back the lid on that can of worms, I'm going to put it back on the proverbial shelf for another post. That was not a road I intended to go down! Shifting gears (but probably still instilling some butthurt anyway), I've really been enjoying my new CANON gear after kicking Nikon to the curb. With the assistance of CANON, here is a sampling of our winter birds from along the edge of the South Bay.

Iceland Gulls can be be quite common at certain sites right now. Here is a particularly eye-catching bird with a big dark hood. Photographed at Don Edwards NWR.

Here is a more typical looking Iceland (darker eye, whiter face) photographed from the same spot. Photographed at Don Edwards NWR.

While Herring x Glaucous-winged are often the most common hybrid in Santa Clara gull flocks, along the bay Western x Glaucous-winged like this one can be more abundant. The Olympic Gull is a particularly unpleasant creature and I have nothing more to say about them. Photographed at Don Edwards NWR.

Mew Gulls, with their small size and delicate build, are absolutely delightful in comparison. They should have named Daymaker Gulls. Photographed at Don Edwards NWR.

I thought this COMBO was worthy of posting, a ring-billed Mew Gull and a ring-billed Ring-billed Gull. Photographed at Don Edwards NWR.

The occasional close pass by a Northern Harrier is always appreciated. Photographed at Don Edwards NWR.

Familiarity breeds contempt, but as common as they are Turkey Vultures are still cool to see close up. Photographed at Don Edwards NWR.

Santa Clara is not a very goosey county, but we get a light smattering of non-Canadas every fall and winter. Here is part of a family group of Snow Geese that have been wintering next to Shoreline Lake near Mountain View. Photographed at the Shoreline Park kite flying area.

A group of Greater White-fronted Geese is also wintering in the same area and are similarly acclimated to people, no doubt due in large part to the large flocks of JUDAS GEESE (nonnative/tame Canada Geese) here. I like the lawn-mowing lineup.

Sometimes, I think about grebes. Luminous beings are grebes. I am a fan of Horned Grebes, but it is one of those species that makes me wonder why, know what I mean? Like if someone could do a brain scan while I looked at a Horned Grebe vs a Western, there would probably be more HOGR-related brain activity even though WEGRs sound way cooler and have a legendary courtship display. Maybe it all goes back to when I first started birding, where HOGRs are harder to come by. I'm sure a great many of my feelings and opinions about certain birds, and birding in general, are heavily colored by those early years more than I realize. Photographed at Shoreline Lake.

EARED GREBE/HORNED GREBE COMBO!!!!!!! The HOGR is showing off its flatter crown, thicker bill, and more contrasting face/neck/flank pattern.

While I think of it, I wanted to mention another aspect of my new Canon gear that I forgot to bring up in my previous post about it. For all previous combos and iterations of Nikon bodies and lenses I've used (which are numerous), one flaw that all of them had was that when the subject was on a flat surface (i.e. sitting on or flying low over water, on mudflats, in short grass) and not close up, the camera invariably have a very difficult time focusing on the intended subject. I could shoot 50 similar frames and sometimes less than 10 would have the subject acceptably sharp with good light and good settings and a near-stationary bird, which is a really shitty ratio. I have no such problem now with the Canon 90D/100-400mm II and couldn't be happier. Photographed at Shoreline Lake.

These Western Sandpipers just had to probe the same exact spot. Must be awkward to bump bills under the mud. Photographed at Charleston Slough.

Let's wrap things up with some avocets, photographed at Charleston Slough. Avocets simultaneously look gangly and awkward in flight, but somehow also striking and graceful. There are a shitload of avocets in the South Bay and I'm pretty happy about it. 

A Summer Dispatch from Rancho de Bastardos and the Five Mile Radius

I lied. The newest BB&B post will not be about Texas...how about we change it up? What about the local birding? What is the good word? How are things going at Rancho de Bastardos? What of the Five Mile Radius (5MR)? As everyone knows, you can't be a birding darling without birding locally!

Well we renewed our lease of Rancho de Bastardos, so will be holding it down at least until next spring. The current Rancho list stands at 122, with 6 new species so far this year: Lesser Scaup (expected), Phainopepla (very unexpected), Purple Finch (expected), Red-breasted Merganser (quite unexpected), Rufous Hummingbird (not necessarily expected), and Orange-crowned Warbler (long expected). A hoped-for-but-unsurprising Snow Goose showed up right at the end of 2017, found by my dad who was visiting from out of town (above).

Getting new yard birds this year has been a major pain, and I suspect I won't be getting another until August or September...the potential for new birds before then is really low, especially if the ponds behind the house remain too full to be attractive to shorebirds...but if shorebird habitat was actually allowed to develop, there are a whole bunch of new birds that could potentially drop in. Same old story...the impossibilities are truly endless. A crippling drake Wood Duck hung out right behind our back fence for a morning earlier in the month, which was a life-affirming (if not life-changing) summer surprise and a new one for the 2018 Rancho list. Speaking of which, the 2018 Rancho list is at a solid 104, and with a little luck I think 120 can be reached by the end of the year.

This seemed like a good spring for migrant hummingbirds in the county (namely Rufous and Calliope), and multiple Selasphorus made visits to the feeders at Rancho de Bastardos in the spring. All the males seen well enough to ID were Rufous (above), though several females and an immature male or two could not be identified to species. I'll be on the lookout for Allen's Hummingbird next spring, a prime candidate for the yard list.

The putative White-throated x White-crowned Sparrow hybrid ended up hanging out for several weeks in April. Here is a head-on shot that shows the crown pattern pretty well, which is a closer match to White-throated but doesn't perfectly match either species.

Compare it to this White-crowned (presumably pugetensis). All of the Rancho's Zonotrichia migrated north while I was in Texas in late April, not a single bird remained by the time I got home. I guess they had an exit plan.

In other bastard news, Annabelle can now identify Mallards ("duck"), Canada geese ("gee"), Mourning Doves ("duhv") and California ground-squirrels ("wheeo"). She even made a rudimentary song about the squirrels...it goes "Whee-oh, Whee-oh, Whee-oh, Whee-oh." Fully legit. She also peed on my binocular strap and on my camera case the other day, which is not a problem I've dealt with previously.

My 5MR list has matured nicely this year as well, and has climbed to a modest 156, surpassing my previous 5MR based in Albany. Many (most?) of you have higher 5MR lists, but I am pleased with how mine is progressing, nay burgeoning...I've already added 19 species to it in 2018. Let's hear it for local birding! This is about 65% of my entire Santa Clara County list, which I think is a nice ratio and reflective of what the 5MR has to offer relative of the general area.

If only eBird could whip up a quick target list for my 5MR...

They are an abundant bird in the bay area and they are in my yard every day, but since I grew up in a chickadee-depauperate part of the state they still hold some novelty for me. This Chestnut-backed Chickadee was photographed on the Los Alamitos Creek trail in San Jose, in the 5MR of course.

On the same trail on another day, I came across a Turkey Vulture feeding on a deer carcass (note the ribcage in the upper right). This generally isn't blogworthy, especially considering the rubbish quality of the photo, but this section of trail wasn't next to a road (it's actually separated from area roads by a tall fence) and the trail was saturated with warnings of mountain lion sightings. I think this deer wasn't taken down by a Jaguar, but by a mountain lion, know what I'm saying? Eh? Eh?

The southern half of my 5MR is absolutely brimming with Acorn Woodpeckers. It is the cradle of Acorn Woodpecker civilization as far as I know. This is the sort of bird that you want around in great abundance, especially when they aren't wary of people. Photographed at Guadalupe Oaks County Park.

While we are on the hot topic of 5MRs and the perpetually hot eBird, I have a proposal to make. Those of you who have an ear open for you at eBird Central Command (or are a part of Central Command) should tell them to embrace the 5MR. I know almost half of you who read this are eBird reviewers, so we have a nice, potentially powerful little lobby here. The 5MR encourages local birding, it encourages birding lightly-covered (or uncovered) areas (a major goal for eBird), and it encourages eBird use (an even greater goal for eBird). If a 5MR tool is added to patch lists, 5MRs will become the shining jewel of that feature. So eBird, go ahead and do a quick interview with everyone's favorite famous post-Oregon birder Flycatcher Jen, add a 5MR feature, and let it rip! Many birders will chill back on their excessive checking of Top 100 state and county lists, and be all about comparing the Top 100 5MRs in their states and counties instead. This will really level the playing field for those who are interested in comparing patch lists, considering that many users (including reviewers...wtf) have bullshit patches that are hundreds of square miles.  Anyhow, do us all a favor and let eBird know...if they actually had some interest in this idea, things may never be the same.

I'll close this post out with series of Great Egret vs. gopher shots from the Los Alamitos Creek Trail, part of my 5MR I've been birding on the reg. It's a nice zone and has some Vague (not vague) potential, unfortunately it starts getting real crowded by mid-morning...but when you live in a city with over a million people, what do you expect? Gross...

Surprisingly, the gopher ate the egret in the end.

Jk the egret won, gopher-egret matches are always fixed. I'm glad I don't have to worry about being impaled by giant birds, just stuff like cholesterol. More from Texas in the next post, for reals.

Word is bond.

Colusa National Wildlife Refuge: Get Goosed

You show me Colusa National Wildlife Refuge, and I will show you a Falcated Duck. It's true. I've looked for the bird three times, three different years, and seen it every time.  I know most people don't have that kind of luck.  This may sound all nerdy and braggy but I just experienced one of the worst dips in my life (more on that soon), so cut me some slack.

Anyways, I didn't crush a Falcated Duck this time, but there are a handful of other birds that use the refuge, as you can see.  This post is about those birds.

The Central Valley is the realm of the goose.  The popular and somewhat sought-after Ross's Goose winters in abundance. Remarkably, in the early 30's their entire population was thought to be down to 6,000 individuals or less, mostly as a consequence of market hunting. Obviously, they have since rebounded, with a total population around 2 million.

As I've said before, Ross's Goose is the cutest goose, especially when they're not blowing up with warts.

A favorite fact of mine to learn about a particular bird species is the longevity record, so here we go; the oldest known Ross's Goose was "collected" at the ripe age of 22 and a half.

Many Ross's Geese have a lot of warty growth at the base of their bill. Here I have documented a Rhinoceros Goose. FACT: The first known description of a Ross's Goose, years before being formally described by science, called it the "horned wavey".  I have no idea what a wavey is, of course.

Snow Geese are a bit more common.  "Lesser" Snow Goose is the expected type here in California.

One of my most long-lasting birding memories from my formative birding years was seeing huge flocks of Snow and Ross's Geese for the very first time.  It's really a spectacle, and it has never gotten old.

And now, I present to you The Best Snow Goose I Have Ever Seen.  Is this not the Goose of Ages?

This Snow Goose rolls with just one black primary on each wing.  This bird is pretty much the physical manifestation of not giving a fuck.  Who needs those black primaries anyway?  Why not just be hella white?

Here it is attacking a normal, black-winged Snow Goose.  All geese bow down to Snowy Snow Goose.

Cackling Geese are uncommon at Colusa, but investing any sort of mild effort this time of year should result in turning up a few.  It's not like there's a shortage of geese to look through.

Let's not forget the humble "specklebelly", as bird destroyers call them.  The Great Ornithologist Felonious Jive is known to hold this bird in especially high regard.  Could it be because of the pleasant slope of the culmen?  The slightly hoarse honk?  Or that time he had words with a photographer and was skull-bashed with a 800mm lens?

One of the highlights of the day was a pair of ostensible Snow X Greater white-fronted Geese, which Felonious Jive featured at 10,000 Birds this month.  Here is a link to another very similar bird, found on the internets.

Fine, fine, here is a nongoose.  No, not a mongoose, a nongoose.  Northern Pintails are elegant ducks, I don't think that statement requires any further elucidation.  Thanks to Abe Borker for organizing a check-in with the Falcated Duck, and for Officer John Garrett for providing safe passage and general bird policing services.  

Goosed

Ross's Goose was one of the first rare birds I found as an awkward teen birder; for that, I am forever grateful. Photographed at Lake Merced, San Francisco, CA.

As always, I have a huge backlog of photos that are actually fit for exhibition on the interwebs, and so I decided to dive into my digital goose reservoir for today...it is winter, after all, and much of the country is being grazed by geese of all of kinds. I also figure that some of you probably need to take a break from your gull-inspired migraines...geese are a bit easier to handle.

I've always admired geese; their long-distance migrations, their penchant for vagrancy, their mixed species flocks, their good looks and (usually) mild demeanor, their fantastic noises, their huge flocks, their monogamy (not that I'm fixated on monogamy, I just think geese are way better at it than people are), their family migrations and their social hierarchy in flocks. They are also delicious, although I can't say I've had the opportunity to eat a wild one yet.

Which is not why we are here at all. Sorry I don't have a good Nene shot, or else they would be included...and as far as Taiga Bean-Goose, Tundra Bean-Goose, Lesser White-fronted Goose, Pink-footed Goose and Barnacle Goose...those are the geese that dreams are made of.

Compared to Snow Geese, Ross' are off the cute scale, probably due to a combination of the round head, wee bill and comparatively large eye. There has actually been a study on how people perceive cuteness (which I am too lazy to find at the moment); one thing I do remember is that head shape goes a long way.

Snow Goose. A novice birder might say "God, that looks like the same damn bird as the Ross's". To that I would reply, "If two twins were standing in front of you, and one was wearing black lipstick, do you really think you wouldn't notice the difference?". Said novice birder would then be incredibly ashamed for overlooking something so obvious and I would have to offer them strong drink to make them feel better. Photographed at Sacramento National Wildlife Refuge, CA.

Blue Snow Goose, a bird of much snazziness. Sacramento National Wildlife Refuge.

Brant! A goose of the sea, and one who prefers a guttural yodel to a pleasant honk. Photographed in San Diego, CA. 

Brant are not impressed by lawns and agricultural fields; they stick to bays and estuaries. Being completely addicted to eelgrass for much of the year, they typically don't stray very far from where their beloved aquatic grass grows.

Cackling Geese are easy to identify; they are mini Canada Geese. If you want to get into the fun stuff, you can identify them to subspecies if you get close enough. This bird's triangular bill, white throat, dark subterminal band on the greater coverts, and lack of white neck ring make this bird a Ridgway's Cackling Goose. Photographed at Lake Merritt, Oakland, CA. 

Another good thing about geese is that they tend to take up residency at city parks from time to time, where they can be crushed with even the smallest camera lens without dire effects.

Cackle cackle.

Greater White-fronted Goose. Most of my best goose shots are of this species, we have a good relationship. Photographed at Lake Merced.

Emperor Goose (middle) is the vagrant goose that we on the west coast look for every winter; the vast majority of them on our continent stay within the confines of Alaska throughout the year. This one is a bit dingy looking, apparently not a full adult yet, but they can be completely crippling birds. Canada (of the Dusky variety, I believe...I had to include Canadas somewhere in this post right?) and Greater White-fronted Geese stand to either side. Photographed at Ocean Shores, WA.