The Antibirder...Sunsick...Moronic and Crazed...Scumbag Birders Stick Together

Within the last month, I have seen a paltry 9 warbler species here in the bay area...although this is very embarrassing, it's not completely my fault. Townsend's Warbler is one of the few species I am cursed to see regularly. It's worth mentioning that this was shot at 3200 ISO on my newish D7000, looks deec if you ask me. Golden Gate Park, San Francisco, CA.

It's been a quick, strange fall this year. Life changes both inside and outside of the realms of birding...and the more I bird, the more grateful I am to have a life outside of the realm of birding. So many birders are not as lucky...but it is hard to weep for those who take something so humorous/fun/nerdy so deadly seriously. It has become vividly clear that a lot of birders seek a kind of birder antihero to illuminate a brighter path of birding for those still groping through the darkness...but who will it be? Of course, it is also pertinent to distinguish between the antibirder (antihero) and birding antichrist, of which there are already several.

So what's new? It is the weather. There is too much sun. Too much northwest winds. Where is our fall marine layer???? It has been a pathetic year for vagrant passerines in the bay area...I've seen a few fun migrants (Blackburnian Warbler, Prairie Warbler, American Redstart, Indigo Bunting), but it's been very slow in general. The birders offshore on Southeast Farallon Island, normally a vagrant magnet, have had one of the worst years on record in terms of finding rare birds out there. They weep daily, even though they get to see Northern Gannet and Blue-footed Boobies together all the time. The good word has it that they have resorted to trying to befriend a Sandhill Crane that has settled on the island, whom may or may not be lapping up their tears for sustenance.

Speaking of boobies, they are still happening. I have now seen them in both Marin and San Francisco Counties this fall, which I would really be excited about if I was a county lister (I'm usually not). Call me old-fashioned, but I just like looking at boobies, even if they are too far to crush. Their northward "push" seems to have stalled out, but they are still regularly being seen in the bay area.

Wilson's Storm-Petrels have been seen with regularity in storm-petrel flocks in Pioneer Canyon and Cordell Bank this year, but if you really want looks at them, go to the east coast. This ambitious bird grabbed a chunk of chum from off the stern of the Stormy Petrel II, off Hatteras, NC.

Laysan Albatross was a bird I really wanted to get on a Shearwater Journeys boat this year...as you can see, the bird gods answered my repeated blood sacrifices. This is a fresh juvenile...I've heard a number of birders suggest that the Laysans found off the coast of California are from the Mexican population, but I haven't seen any actual evidence of that. Photographed off Half Moon Bay, CA.

Unlike the relatively poor passerine scene, seabirding has been very good this fall for me. Two Cape Hatteras trips in August (seven lifers and an ABA bird) and leading on seven Shearwater Journeys boats (a state bird and great birds and whales in general) has been more than fruitful for me. Uncommon and rare shearwaters have been seen with regularity off the central coast this year (Great, Manx, Flesh-footed), and storm-petrels have put on an amazing show in a couple places. Too bad I wasn't able to get it on the Craveri's Murrelet and Least Storm-Petrel action off San Diego this fall, but even Number 7 can only be in one place at a time. The pelagic season will be winding down soon, so get on a boat when you can!

So many crucial birding spots are found on federal land...but they are no longer options, thanks to the profoundly ignorant/crazed/moronic Tea Party and their allies. So, we must find birds like this White-faced Ibis on state, municipal and private lands...it's an interesting challenge, to have a "handicapped" arsenal of hotspots to choose from, but not exactly fun in early October. Photographed on state property at Yolo Bypass Wildlife Area, Davis, CA.

The government shutdown is bad for everyone, and lets face it, birders have it the worst. How are we supposed to bird national wildlife refuges? National parks? I am supposed to be going to Yosemite National Park in a few days, and guess what? Not fucking happening...life is pain. Those Great Gray Owls will just have to wait, and my heart grows blacker every day. It is a known fact that if one goes too long without seeing a Great Gray Owl, their life becomes futile. In fact, that is why most human beings die.

The best place to consistently find Pacific Golden-Plover in the bay area is Schollenberger Park in Petaluma. If they are around, they are not difficult to distinguish from Black-bellied Plovers...I don't think I need to tell you which of the above birds is of the golden variety. Schollenberger is lit up brightly on the new eBird Hotspot Explorer, reflecting the good number of species recorded there over the years.

Have you peeped the eBird Hotspot Explorer yet? Give it a look. This long overdue new chapter of eBird lets one conveniently find and compare different hotspots...I think I will be putting it to use in the near future. This is an excellent tool for scouting out places to bird in an area you are unfamiliar with, and may assist researchers in examining sites with differing degrees of species diversity.

Pygmy Nuthatch is a bird. It is not a rare bird, but it is a good bird. In this area, an abundant bird. Despite a full day of local terrestrial birding with Nate from This Machine Watches Birds, I could not get him on any of these things. Blue-footed Booby? No problem. Vaux's Swift? Ok. Eurasian Wigeon? Sure. One of the most abundant birds in the area? No. Photographed someplace we did not bird...Sutro Heights Park, San Francisco, CA.

Lastly, it's been a great fall for migrant birders in the bay area, with lots of old and new friends being observed in the area (often on pelagic trips). I'm grateful to be located someplace that sees so many shining/disgusting examples of humanity drop by regularly, especially since I don't bird with anyone who lives here! So thanks to all of you who have stopped by for birding, raging, etc., and I look forward to crossing paths again soon....scumbag birders must stick together, or else our weird kind may be wiped out completely.

Sweet, Delicious, Nectar-filled Migrants

Ah, sweet, sweet Galileo Hill. The place was oozing with migrants when we were there. Aside from Pacific-slope Flycatchers (which were oddly abundant for so late into spring), the most common empid was Dusky Flycatcher. Here is one doing it's best impression of a Hammond's Flycatcher, trying to make it's primaries look hella long and showing off its black lower mandible.

But another angle shows us the slightly longer bill we are accustomed to in Dusky Flycatcher, and suddenly the primaries look a bit shorter.

This is a better angle to judge primary extenstion from (different bird though). These things were everywhere, even foraging from the ground!

Black-headed Grosbeak was another common migrant that day. Small flocks of them were foraging on the ground like goddamn sparrows...only the magic of the desert could render such a thing possible. Believe it or not, this is the species' first appearance on BB&B.

One of two Rufous Hummingbirds we had that day. This bird fiercely defended a large creosote bush for a long time, despite many other flowering creosotes in the area. Despite the oasis that is Galileo Hill (many migrants must think it's a mirage at first), the birds will not hesitate to leave their green goodness and hop right back into the creosote.

Birds love creosote so much, they will surf it.

A blazing sunbow appeared over Galileo Hill for several minutes, beckoning birds. No big deal, just another day birding Kern County.

White-throated Swifts, as you can probably guess, are not built to be photographed...they are built to be blurry and undocumented. This is my best grab yet...alas, there is still work to do. They are very classy birds though...if you have not yet seen one, I can put your fears to rest and assure you that you are missing out.

Nomnomnomnom...nomnom. Chipping Sparrow. When I come off island next week, can you guess where I'm going to go birding?

After Officer Searcy and I finished with Galileo, we lurked over to California City, which was also pretty birdy but failed to produce anything more bizarre than a Bank Swallow, late Bufflehead, and resident Snow Goose and Cackling Goose. The Piute Ponds and Dipper Dan were next on the agenda, where these White-faced Ibis showed off their white faces.

Spotted Sandpipers don't get much attention (except when getting misidentified for Wandering Tattlers in winter), but I reckon they are a charismatic bird. A good bird. I don't get too see them all spotted up very often.

I can't really claim this is a "crush", but I feel like I at least put a dent in this sandpiper. I really dig the underwing pattern of this bird, this is not something I've really registered seeing before. I wonder if there's any difference with Common Sandpiper? Who knows how many of those things have gone undetected on the west coast...

By now you have wondered how we could go do a full day of birding in May and not find a Vague Runt. Well, we didn't manage to photograph one (fail), but I managed to capture the soul of this bird, a real Vague Runt!  Stilt Sandpiper (here with Black-necked Stilt, for pointless comparison) is a rare bird in California (aside from one infamous, stinky locale), and even rarer in spring. EBird only lists one other spring record for Stilt Sandpiper in LA County, although I don't doubt there are more.

Salton Birdscapes

From left to right: Semipalmated Sandpiper, Western Sandpiper, Wilson's Phalarope. The sandpipers would frequently fight over a desired piece of mudflat, while the phalarope would referee.

When discussing birding the Salton Sea with nonlocal birders, a common response is wide eyes, a slack jaw, and incoherent jabber about bird-related jealousy. This routine typically winds up with "I've been meaning to go there for years now" or "I would kill 6 infant children with a hammer for the opportunity to bird the Salton Sea".

The fact is that you don't need to be a high-ranking power-birder, or murderer, to get access to the sea. It's right there, waiting to be birded. But with (generally) retreating water levels and ongoing salinity increases, its unclear how long it will remain the hotspot that it is. What are you waiting for?

Aside from the quality of birds there and high vagrant potential, the sheer numbers of birds there is a spectacle in and of itself, which I guess will serve as a loose theme for today's photos.

American White Pelicans. Lots of them. Photographed at the west end of Bowles Road.

Yellow-footed Gulls and Snowy Egrets. Interestingly, the bird on the right is much smaller-billed in comparison to the others...I'm not sure what to make of that. South end of the Salton Sea.

Tens of thousands of birds. West end of Bowles Road.

Staggering numbers...the mind reels. Bowles Road.

A Stilt Sandpiper shuns its comparatively abundant dowitcher bretheren. The Salton Sea is the best place on the Pacific Flyway (at least, in the Lower 48) to find this species in numbers. Bowles Road.

The sea is saturated with Black-necked Stilts. Wister Unit of Sonny Bono Salton Sea NWR.

American White Pelicans and Snowy Egrets. West end of Young Road.

This is a classic Imperial Valley scene. White-faced Ibis, alfalfa fields, geothermal power plant, bleak martian landscape in the distance.

This Black Tern formation looked like they were trying to tell me something. Stay positive? Photographed from the north end of Garst Road.

Black Terns and assorted shorebirds litter the mudflats. North end of Garst Road.

A big group of Gull-billed Terns. Look carefully and you may be able to pick out some Stilt Sandpipers in with the dowitchers. In fact, you are not allowed to look away from this photo until you do. West end of Bowles Road.

Not a good picture, but the cormorant on the right is a Neotropic Cormorant, one of 2 that I oogled  and ogled that day. This olivaceous shag is a very rare bird in California, but the Imperial Valley is a great place to look for them. South end of the Salton Sea.

White-faced Ibis

The Salton Sea and surrounding Imperial Valley are the best place in California to see many species, widespread or not. Although there are no shortage in the Central Valley, I would say the Sea and environs are the best place to see White-faced Ibis. They are striking birds in spring and early summer, with a strange mix of maroons and rust with an impossible rainbow of iridescent glory stretching from wingtip to wingtip.

White-faced Ibis are abundant, and if you have both the skill and the patience you could find a Glossy Ibis with some luck. In case you didn't know, finding a pure-blooded Glossy Ibis in California is an almost automatic advancement up the ranks of the Global Birder Ranking Scale. You don't need to find a Glossy to enjoy slogging through the ibis flocks though.

A typical scene in the Imperial Valley. Scads of ibis.

Like most wading birds, ibis are getting a bit ragged and are molting out of their facemelty breeding colors this time of year. The adults are still pretty snazzy looking, although they are less prone to cause one's pupils to dilate.

This is a giant night roost next to Finney Lake. Thousands were packed in here. So many grunts and quacks coming from this little pond.

Hella ibis.

This is what a bird looks like when it momentarily forgets how to fly.

Tongue-Gnawing Rarity...A Falcated Duck Abides...This Cat Is Distracting...Colusa National Wildlife Refuge.

Why this strapping duck was called a teal at any point, I don't know. All photos today are from Colusa National Wildlife Refuge, CA.

"There was a fast and terrible speed to it that was almost biblical - like the Book of Revelation, where the rivers fill with blood and the seeds of the land turn to poison and men will gnaw their tongues for pain." - Hunter S. Thompson, in Generation of Swine.

This description summed up how I felt shortly after I learned of Colusa National Wildlife Refuge's Falcated Duck. After the initial giddiness of learning about the bird wore off, the terrible reality that I might not see it set in and I began to panic. Terrible flashbacks of The Ivory Gull Incident blazed through my mind. What began as joy turned into a nightmarish sludge of nail-biting anxiety and Doom. Before I knew what had happened, I had torn out large clumps of hair and had chewed my nails down to bloody nubs....

Which was all for nothing, as you all know, as I was able to see the bird back in December, the day after it was found. But it was just so damn far away that it just didn't feel right, weeks later, when I saw daily reports of the bird being right next to the road and offering itself up for decent quality photographs. So I did what I thought was best and headed back there earlier this month.

A Falcated Duck is a true crippler. Not only is it an exceptionally rare bird ("MEGA"), it's also extremely good looking, and sports a classy word in its name ("Falcated", obvi) that no nonbirders have even heard of and relatively few birders comprehend. The majority of the world's population spends the winter in China, Japan and the Koreas, so this bird is a long way from home. For once, the California birding community has not seriously entertained the few feeble and baseless claims that this was a captive-released individual.

The duck stands out among its peers. I'm really glad that it survived hunting season. Suck it, trophy hunters!

Falcation!!!! "Falcated" means "sickle-shaped", which is a reference to those fancy extra-long tertial feathers you see here.

This is probably my best shot of a Greater White-fronted Goose. I am now accepting glory and adulation from all.


I would venture to guess that Florida's Merritt Island National Wildlife Refuge has been the most blogged about National Wildlife Refuge the past several months in the Birdosphere, due to a recent birding festival held nearby and it's proximity to various highly gifted bird photographers. For a change of pace, I figured I would give some more publicity to northern California's own Colusa National Wildlife Refuge. No, it doesn't have Roseate Spoonbills and Reddish Egrets, but it was the only place in the Lower 48 where someone could see a Falcated Duck this winter.

Colusa National Wildlife Refuge is located north of Sacramento, CA, just off Highway 5, so it's an easy detour for a birder travelling up or down the center of the state. It is definitely managed as a classic waterfowl refuge, but of course the huge wetland complex attracts all sorts of raptors and other marsh birds. I've only thoroughly birded there in winter, and I'm curious about what it draws in during migration.

Greater White-fronted Geese. The lead bird is an immature (note lack of black barring on the belly).

I don't have a lot of silhouette shots I really like, but I think this White-faced Ibis came out ok.

This Great Egret helped out the photograph by putting its neck in Question Mark Position. By the way, there is a cat licking the hell out of my right arm right now and it's making it difficult to concentrate.

Most people will tell you that Northern Pintails are their favorite dabbling duck. But most people have not seen a Falcated Duck.

Unsurprisingly, the only approachable American Bittern I have seen in years also happened to be in some of the worst light possible. Oh well, still a rad bird.

I'll get you next time bittern.....next time.

Gadwall, a strict adherent to the philosophy of Economy Of Style. 

Snow Geese abound!

You asked for it....The Bellowing Falcated. What did it sound like? A bizarre mix of Russian and Chinese...a very communist quack, I suppose.