Still S.E.V.E.N./Breaking Rad(ius)

How long has it been since the last post? I'm really dropping the ball over here. Well, I've been doing a lot of crud, and quite a bit of stuff too, so it's not like I've had ample opportunities to fire up the blogerator...but still. Even though it has not been sheer, bottomless laziness that is to blame, I have let you down all the same.

I have failed you.

But I am here now. BB&B languishes no longer. Withering away into oblivion is not fait accompli...at least, not yet. Before BB&B fades away, I must pass on all that I know. A thousand blog posts will live in you. Someday, this will be your fight.

And what a fight it will be. The truth about birders must be told, even after I am gone. Although our rate of posting has dwindled, BB&B is constantly taking the temperature of the birding community, and our recent findings are disconcerting at best. Birders are still as nonsensical, annoying, petty, anal and pedantic as ever...perhaps now more than ever. They still fail to apply basic concepts of science to their bizarre, baseless theories while claiming to embrace science. They are still obsessed with making everything into a hybrids. They still spew vicious, evil lies like "there is no such thing as a bad day of birding".

Unbelievable.

Someday, dear reader, you will construct your own lightsaber and your skills will be complete. Indeed, you will be powerful. But that day has not come yet...I am still here, and my journey is not yet over. I am still here, still the Global Birder Ranking System's #7 U.S. birder, still a birding master, still capturing the birding Zeitgeist like no blog ever has.

Still rock my khakis with a cuff and a crease.

Chances are most of you readers are too old or too young to know what that means, but for the rest of you, enjoy that easter egg. Now that we have reestablished my blog wizardry, I feel comfortable admitting to you a deeply shameful fact...September was an utter failure in terms of seeing rare birds. I didn't really chase very much (going to take this opportunity to pat myself on the back here), and while that may be admirable, I also didn't find jack shit locally. I can't remember the last time I went through September without seeing a single vague runt somewhere in the bay area...how embarrassing!

Apparently, I no longer see vagrants. I no longer see uncommon birds. What has happened to me? Can I just go #FULLGERI and retire so I can go bird all the time? If only there were a way...

No, this is not where I direct you to my gofundme page so you can pay for my birding trips. You're welcome.

No matter. The rarities will return, though they may or not be within my 5MR. It hasn't been too difficult to stay in the friendly confines of the 5MR for most of the year though. I've gotten a lot of new radius birds, seen some rarities, and found a couple really good ones of my own. However, that strategy has been backfiring a bit lately, and I think one of the best ways to maintain a good relationship with your radius is to know when to break free of your radial shackles!

So with that in mind, here is some non-radial stuff from earlier this year.

Countless birders went to see this Eastern Bell's Vireo when it set up a territory for a couple of weeks in late spring. Not only was this my first Bell's Vireo of any subspecies in Santa Clara County, this was my first Eastern seen in the state. Easterns are exceptionally rare in California and practically unheard of in spring...it's worth wondering if this split will be revisited again. I've only seen one or two of these before, so this relatively cooperative vague runt gets FIVE STARS. Photographed at Don Edwards National Wildlife Refuge, Santa Clara County.

A day later, I hiked out on a trail I had previously not heard of for another county bird, an Indigo Bunting. While it wasn't very cooperative, I did appreciate that it dispensed with the suspense and appeared almost immediately upon my arrival. Photographed on the Stanford Dish Trail, Santa Clara County.

Dark-eyed Juncos isn't the slightest bit rare, but I appreciate friendly ones like this. This was photograped at New Brighton State Beach in Santa Cruz County, where I also got my lifer great white sharks! Standing on a fairly crowded beach while a bunch of (mostly small) sharks swim offshore is quite the spectacle, very Jawsish in a low intensity kind of way. Best moment: despite everyone on the beach knowing there were sharks visible just offshore, a dude on a stand up paddleboard tried to be all nonchalant and paddle around anyway, but had to frantically turn around and paddle to shore when a shark came up next to him. Golden!

The easiest, most reliable Red-footed Booby in the Lower 48 has made its home roost at the end of the Seacliff Pier in Capitola for spans of 2018 and 2019. It's still there, being awesome. Of all the booby species, this one has been the hardest to chase in California until very recently, as they had a penchant of dying immediately after being found. This one is holding it down though.

Here it is back in 2018. Back then, it looked a bit more blonde-headed and pink-billed.

I live near sea otters. They are very east to see down at Moss Landing (where this one was) and in the Monterey area. This proximity has enriched my life. Everyone would be a lot happier if they had access to sea otters. Alas, most of the world is a sea otter desert.

And so the world burns.

Unlike otters, summertime Long-tailed Ducks are not at all expected, as they are a good find even during winter. These two decided to pass their time going through gnarly molts in Moss Landing. 

After driving by it countless times without stopping, I finally checked out Moss Landing Wildlife Area. I'm glad I did, because there was a Snowy Plover nest hatching right next to the trail! Crazy timing. Look at that little chickie! It's still wet and has eggshell in its down. I spent less than 30 seconds next to the nest and then booked it out of there to make sure it was minimally disturbed...after all, I am not a photographer. Hey-oh!

Microfishing is all the rage now but Great Egrets have been doing it since there have been Great Egrets. Photographed at Shoreline Lake, Santa Clara County.

Can you imagine connecting with this microtrophy with hook and line? Oh, the stories you could tell. 

Shoreline Lake is also a popular fishing spot for Forster's Terns and a great place to see them up close, since they are very acclimated to fishing next to the well-trafficked footpath. I love me some acclimation. Too bad the Black Skimmers that nest there now aren't so prone to cruising by the shore.

It's not like I'm a photographer or anything, but one of my favorite things to shoot is terns in flight. Shooting many flying birds (swifts, hummingbirds, most passerines, almost anything on pelagic trips) often ends in nothing but crushed hopes, massive disappointments and some mediocre keepers, but terns have such nice lines, some tolerance for people and aren't obnoxiously small. Also, anything that feeds by plunge diving gets extra points from me.

Willets are underappreciated. Nice to see this confiding friend just returned from its breeding grounds...where their obnoxiousness is what is unappreciated. Being near a Willet nest is not a pleasant sensory experience. Photographed at Shoreline Lake.

Cliff Swallows are still occupying their wonderful ovenish nests in late summer. Photographed at the Palo Alto Baylands, Santa Clara County.

At the Casey Forebay pumphouse, I settled in to sort through the swallows that roost there. I don't get to see/study juvenile swallows as well or as often as I would like, and the flock here provides a good opportunity to see birds up close. Here is a somewhat bedraggled adult Cliff flanked by juveniles.

I was surprised to find this white faced juvenile Cliff Swallow. At first I thought it was an abnormality, but then I noticed several other white-faced juveniles in the flock.

This is a different individual. Bizarre. Well it's most likely not bizarre at all, but I did not expect it. Anyone know what's up with this whiteness? How long it is retained? Do only a minority of birds get this or is this a pretty typical part of their molt?

In the back of my mind, I had an alterior motive for standing there with the swallows. I wanted to find a Bank Swallow. They are a rarity in Santa Clara and I had never seen one here. You can imagine my surprise when one casually swooped in and landed on the railing 15 feet from me, allowing me to crush it through the chain link fence.

Uh....what? Finding rare birds usually does not work like that. Finding a rarity...a county bird...is always ace, but finding one in July is the icing on the cake. Having the bird come to you within scope and tripod hurling distance is the crushed up painkillers sprinkled on the icing on the cake. This business with betraying one's radius is not so bad after all, eh? Although they nest at a couple places on the coast, I don't often get to see Bank Swallows and this was my one and only of the year.

While the Bank Swallow was confiding, it did not stick around for long so I was left with the other swallow species. It was cool to have all the other brown swallows represent in the swallow roost, which made for a great comparison with the Bank and with one another. Here is a juvenile Tree Swallow.

And here it is bellowing.

Here is a juvenile Violet-green Swallow, showing just a tad bit of white above and behind the eye.

And last but for once not least, here is a juvenile Northern Rough-winged Swallow. Yes, typically this swallow is one of the absolute drabbest North American birds, but they are pretty cool looking as juveniles! So many rich colors...relatively speaking! A veritable rainbow of browns. I'm probably about done taking swallow pictures for the year, so I hope you enjoyed the brownbow!

Dipped and Gripped, A New Hope

The Common Ringed Plover liked to associate with this group of Snowy Plovers during its stay at Abbotts Lagoon, but not while I was there. This flock is acclimated to people but a beach person (as opposed to a bird person with a camera) still managed to walk right through them and put them in the air.

By now many of you have heard about the Common Ringed Plover at Abbotts Lagoon in Marin County, or have seen it for yourselves. This is a MEGUH bird and only the 2nd ever properly identified and documented in California. I was out of state when California's first was found, so this would not only be a savory state bird, it would be a lifer. When the so-so photos first came out of the bird as a candidate Common Ringed Plover I thought it was fully legit (The Global Birder Ranking System's #7 U.S. birder is usually right about these things), but not living anywhere nearby had to pray someone would be wise enough to follow up on it and be able to confirm if it was refound - which is exactly what happened. Loads of birders then saw it Thursday and Friday and I resolved to make the pilgrimage to Abbotts on Saturday...but by Friday night I was feeling QUITE shitty due to a cold and wondered if I could even make it out of the house.

Long story short, I felt well enough for the chase on Saturday and chase I did. I managed to feel something approximating normal until noon. However, on this day, unlike the previous AND following days, it went missing for most of the day. By 1PM I was really going down the tubes and couldn't maintain the vigil for much longer. Of course, after I left (and got cell phone reception again) is when I found out it was seen right around sunrise that morning....and oh big surprise it ended up being seen later that day as well. I finished the day feeling physically like ass, and emotionally like ass as well. Though some other heartwarming birds (Red Knot, Pectoral Sandpipers, Burrowing Owl, Red-throated Pipit) did their best to blunt the piercing impact of the missed plover, it was nonetheless a resounding birding defeat, my worst of the year.

My heart was filled with hate.

My body had betrayed me, but other factors were in play....no reason to go into that now though. In the end, it doesn't matter. A bunch of woulda coulda shouldas do not a life bird make...they make for an ugly, shameful DIP.

This one cuts deep. Myopathy of the soul has set in, not to mention a weird rash. Spirit? Broken. Talk about getting gripped off. I love seeing life birds. I love seeing Old World birds in the New World, especially here in my home state. This dip ranks right up there with Citrine Wagtail (who knows when there will be another, if ever) and Greater Sand-Plover (ugh what a bird to dip on - still only one record on the continent). Another life bird down the tubes.

In times like this, it is best to reminisce on the Ross's Gull. That was a fucking bird.

But I need not just pathetically cling to the dearly departed Ross's Gull. In these dark times, that is not my only source of light...of hope.

No.

There is another.

I may very well finish 2018 with all of one (!) life bird for the year for the first time ever, (that would be Swainson's Warbler), but I am going to start 2019 by getting the hell out of here and going to Belize! I love birding the Neotropics, and I think almost everyone who has had the pleasure feels the same way. Once immersed, no matter the country, you are drawn back to it. This will be my first time going to the country, and from what I gather, the birds of Belize can vaguely be generalized as a mix of Yucatan Peninsula and what I have previously experienced on Atlantic slope of Costa Rica. This won't be guiding for Max Rebo Birding Tours (though maybe Max could be convinced to run a Belize trip afterward), but my first international trip with both Billy and Annabelle. Anything can happen! Disaster could strike! But no matter what there will be birding.

The list of raptors one can find in Belize is long and mouth-watering. There is a good chance I will get to reconnect with White Hawks, which I've only seen a couple times before in Costa Rica. This cooperative juvenile was at Virgen del Socorro, a great spot for raptors itself.

Why Belize? Belize is the size of New Jersey - it's a small country, and getting around to different birding hotspots is alleged to not be very time consuming; long days on the road are easy to avoid. There are lodges galore, and as Billy likes to say (she has been there already), it is just set up for a birding trip. Three of the four places we will be staying are known for the quality of birding on or within walking distance of the property. I have even scheduled a transfer for our first destination, which is a lifer experience (TREATYOSELF); I've always just rented a car for the entirety of dedicated birding trips before. Kind of stoked that we will just be immediately whisked away to life birds (we will pick up a rental a few days later) after we land. Also, since Annie is coming with us we aren't exactly planning on being immersed in the jungle every day, so having amenities available (like the English language!) to help keep her happy (and thus all of us) will be croosh.

It goes without saying that there are a number of extremely desirable birds that one can find in Belize, and since there are dozens of species I still haven't seen (including many of the "Yucatan specialties") that make their bird homes there, that leaves me with a lot of juicy target birds of many flavors. There are wetland flavors (Pinnated Bittern, Ruddy Crake, American Pygmy Kingfisher), taloned flavors (Black-collared Hawk, Bicolored Hawk, Ornate Hawk-Eagle, Orange-breasted Falcon), bland flavors (Plain-breasted Ground-Dove, Yucatan Flycatcher, Northern Schiffornis), cataclysmic birdgasm flavors (Jabiru, Agami Heron, Ocellated Turkey, Tody Motmot), etc. You get the idea.

I almost forgot...for all of you wringing your hands and grinding your teeth in suspense...YES! THERE WILL BE GERI BIRDING!!!! Can't wait. Belize is not filthy rich in tanager diversity, but it is home to the crippling Crimson-collared Tanager, and we should run into them. This unabashed banana lover was photographed at Sarapiqui Eco-Resort in Costa Rica, a Geri Birding mecca, though I think it is now called Dave and Dave's Nature Park or something like that.

So there you have it. The plover cuts deep, but with some luck in a few months I'll be bagging a bunch of lifers without this even being a fully committed all-hands-on-deck birding trip. Should be pretty sick. Wounds heal with time...and a steady diet of lifers.

Imperial Bellow, Old World Bellow, Imitation Rail Mellow

Of course, it wasn't always all about yardbirding for Seagull Steve. Believe it or not, he used to venture forth to look at birds outside of the friendly confines of his yard all the time. On this occasion, he walked by a flock of Snowy Plovers, a local and beloved species. Pilarcitos Creek Mouth, Half Moon Bay, CA.

Some color band combinations are easier to read than others. Spending time with the soothing plover flock here is always a nice consolation when walking back to your car after dipping on rare gulls, at least for Seagull Steve.

When Seagull Steve is birding here, it is typically a lowly, disgusting, gull-oriented endeavor. Here is a Herring Gull with Pillar Point in the background, which makes this image slightly less lowly and disgusting. Steve excels at not seeing rare gulls here; usually Slaty-backed, though Kelp also comes to mind.

Seagull Steve has to keep posting Thayer's Gulls while he still can! This might become an Iceland Gull next month.

After mild success at Pilarcitos, Seagull Steve ventured north to once again see the Emperor Goose wintering on the golf course at Sharp Park in Pacifica. The Emperor was still crippling and still seemed to be doing typical goose things, but not for long. "Rise, my friend," he bellowed to his dark and powerful protege, a nearby Common Raven.

Answering The Emperor's bellow, a Common Raven flew in to attack a nearby Canada Goose, much to The Emperor's delight. "Everything is proceeding as I have foreseen," said The Emperor, cackling with glee. "Your work here is finished, my friend. Go out to the municipal pier and await my orders."

However, not everything was going according to The Emperor's plan...the solemn leader of the Canada Goose Alliance told the other geese, "The Emperor has made a critical error and the time for our attack has come." With the raven distracted, the geese turned on The Emperor, sending him reeling.

And much like when Vader betrayed The Emperor in Return of the Jedi, the imposing Common Raven then joined the fray, taking wing to put an end to The Emperor once and for all.

The Emperor was unwise to lower his defenses.

But this is not Return of The Jedi, and The Emperor escaped unscathed. "Young fool...only now, at the end, do you understand." Fuck you Common Raven, and fuck you Canada Goose.

While it is appropriate to nurse grudges against the giant resident CANGs, there is no place for such feelings when CACGs are involved. Seagull Steve crushed this enthusiastically loafing Cackling Goose at Miller-Knox Regional Shoreline, in Richmond, CA.

This is also a dependable location for Eurasian Wigeons in winter. Female Eurasian Wigeons (right, with the head that does not contrast with the upperparts) are one of those birds those birds that can hide right in plain sight, if there are enough American Wigeon around. And if you are scanning through wigeon in bad light, you can forget about finding one of these (though it is a great time to string one!). It's just something you have to accept. Seagull Steve has accepted it, and he is the Global Birder Ranking System's #7 birder in the country. You would be wise to do the same.

Seagull Steve would not want to be on the receiving end of this mighty Old World bellow!

Bald Eagles are pretty sick. Seagull Steve had a pair of adults fly over at Benicia State Recreation Area, in Benicia, CA. Why was he there? For Black Rails, obvi. He heard three of them, and there are few things more comforting than the sounds of Black Rails...but one even more comforting sound does come to mind: a Northern Mockingbird imitating a Black Rail! Incredible! Yes, he heard a mockingbird imitating a Black Rail that morning. Unbelievable.

And no, I don't write in the third person now, I'm just filling in for Seagull today. He may or may have not overdosed on something last, shhhhhhhhh. - Felonious Jive

Plovers, Peeps, Goose-like Wingbeats

This adult Black-bellied Plover still has some appeal, but lacks in crispness/crispiness. In August, adult southbound shorebirds still wear the ragged remains of their once-impressive plumage they sported on the tundra or taiga. Sometimes it can present an ID challenge (i.e., with adult golden-plovers), at other times it is a simple statement...migration is on, the birds are back, and you need to be out looking for that rare shit. Elsie Roemer Bird Sanctuary, Alameda, CA.

It's September now, and I've been cruising. Unlike last year, when hoped-for rarities did not seem to start materializing until the very end of the month, things have been going swimmingly so far. Vague runts seem relatively plentiful, and disappointments have been few.

But as I said, there is much to catch up with. Before September, there was August. Here in the bay area, the birding has just gotten better and better...June is boring, July is better (shorebirds return), and August brings pelagic trips and plentiful shorebirds, not to mention a whole lot of suspense around the big question seasoned California birders ask each other (in trembling voices) every year...what will September bring? In other words, August birding is exciting again, and I thought I would pay respects to some of the birds of shore (not just shorebirds) prominently featured during the month.

Oh, and before we get in too deep, think of a bird (not a goose) with goose-like wingbeats. Got it? Now put it in your pocket and we will take it out for another look at the end of the post.

Snowy Plovers are patchily distributed around the bay area, favoring salt ponds and a few select beaches along the coast. This adult was washing off the salt at Frank's Dump in Hayward, CA.

Despite being adorable and intensely, Snowy Plovers are very territorial and often chase each other off or do battle if it is called for. The faded bird snuck up on the unsuspecting bather and chased it off. There were still a couple of broods of tiny, downy chicks out here this day (which seemed a bit odd...it was late August), so the aggression was not a surprise.

The Global Birder Ranking System (GBRS) lists me as the #7 U.S. birder, based on hundreds of factors. One of those factors is my ability to pass on knowledge, to not just hoard what I have learned. In that spirit, I want to let you you in on a secret...Semipalmated Plovers have white outer retrices. Did you know that? Middle Harbor Shoreline Park, Oakland, CA.

I may be #7, but I am just like you in a lot of ways...I have fears. Not of slipping to #8 or anything absurd like that, but genuine concerns that I dwell on, that keep me up at night. For example, I have seen many thousands of Semipalmated Plovers...could one of those have been a Common Ringed Plover? Talk about a bird that would be easy to overlook...at any rate, this is a standard Semipalmated.

In August, the mudflats at this park were inundated by Least Terns, mostly from the nearby Alameda colony (I assume) but possibly from elsewhere in the bay. I counted 190 individuals one day at the beginning of August, which to me is a staggering number to see away from a breeding colony. There were a lot of juveniles around (which is good news, as Least Terns are federally listed in the state) and a lot of strange looking molting birds, like this one. Almost no tail on this bird...why????

This fresh juvenile was not confusing, only encouraging. It was good to see Least Terns in something other than alternate plumage, because they get the hell out of dodge almost as soon as breeding is complete so it's not often we get to see much variation in these birds, beyond full alternate. I'm sure I've already seen my last Least Terns of the year already...it's been real.

A great many Western Sandpipers use San Francisco Bay during migration, which I am very grateful for. Here is a typical juvenile male, showing rusty scapulars and a relatively short bill. I've spent an inordinate amount of time this fall sorting through Westerns, looking for a Semipalmated, as it would be a year bird and I've never been able to find one in the bay area...how embarrassing. The search has been in vein, but the search for other vague runts continues.

Now that I think about it, I've spent a not insignificant part of my life sorting through Western Sandpipers. I'm ok with that. It's more enjoyable than sorting through Least Sandpipers.

Ah, the homely Least Sandpiper. They don't get a lot of love. If someone asked you, "What would you rather, have American Redstarts go extinct or have Least Sandpipers go extinct", you know you would pick the sandpiper over the vast majority of other birds. It's not their fault they are so drab and abundant, and they certainly aren't obnoxious or anything. They're just being Least Sandpipers. I liked the cracked mud this one was coursing over. 

Now that I've lulled you to sleep with common birds, how about something else...do you see a godwit (the startling pale one...on the left) that is not like the others? Bolinas Lagoon, Bolinas, CA.

Bolinas Lagoon hosted this Bar-tailed Godwit for about a week, which we were able to see from Highway 1. I've only seen one in the state before, so when Peter Pyle reported this bird, the drool started flowing in earnest. Though it never came particularly close, the bird readily stood out from the Marbleds, even at great distance. Seeing a Sibe always feels like a major accomplishment, and this bird brought the warm and fuzzy rarity endorphins I knew it would. Also present were a Ruddy Turnstone (oddly, somewhat of a rarity in Marin) and a fantastically distant golden-plover, which Peter and others had previously identified as an American.

A lone Long-billed Curlew provided the godwitting birders close company on the shore of the lagoon. Sibley notes "goose-like wingbeats" and "foraging movements graceful"; neither of these thoughts have ever occurred to me, though I won't go on record as denying them.

Perhaps he will note "forceful bellowing" in the next edition.