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.

Modest Accolades and Low-Level Glory

Shorebirds have been barreling south through the continent for over 2 months now, but they won't be stopping anytime soon. This flock, mostly Western Sandpipers, was in Imperial Beach, CA.

Wow. A lot has been happening lately here. I just moved out of San Diego, sold my car and bought another one. This is important, because I am much more enthusiastic about taking birding trips when I am not afraid of my car seizing and dying on me. So some boring shit that definitely is not blogworthy went down, but rest assured Ive made sure to keep birding. Once I get to my migratory staging area in Oakland, CA, things will settle down and I can go back to my routine of seeing incredibly rare, good-looking birds.

Wilson's Phalaropes. They have switched gender roles. They swim in circles. They have a lot of different plumages. What's not to love? Imperial Beach, CA.

Here's a juvenile Red-necked Phalarope. This time of year, I think they are a lot more eye-catching than the adults, who are very gray and blotchy. Imperial Beach, CA.

Adult Reddish Egret. It got too close and I clipped its wing, sorry...it won't happen again. Imperial Beach, CA.

Cooper's Hawks are particularly common throughout the country this time of year...not only are they migrating en masse, but their populations are very high due to the all the young birds (like this one) present. Young raptors have very high mortality rates, most won't make it through the winter. Tijuana River Valley, CA.

This is not a bird you are likely to see in fall migration, at least not in California. If you do find one, expect skepticism...but if you pass the test of the Bird Police, there will be modest accolades and low-level glory. This Least Bell's Vireo was at the Dairy Mart Ponds in the Tijuana River Valley, CA.

Hutton's Vireo. Considering their repetitive 2-note song, and the fact that they look like a Ruby-crowned Kinglet on steroids, I think this is the most boring vireo. This may be a BB&B first though, so I've got to put it up...these birds are generally considered resident but they do show up at migrant traps. Dairy Mart Ponds.

House Wrens are common fall migrants in California lowlands. They don't sing much but they are still loud...it's a good time of year to learn their calls. Fort Rosecrans National Cemetery, San Diego, CA.

Common Yellowthroat. You know them, you probably don't love them, but you like them. You have definitely misidentified them for other things, if just for a few seconds. Strangely, a BB&B first. Tijuana River Valley, CA.

Hangin' Up The Bins...Ubersocial Shorebirds...Mammologist Pity

Shorebirds. I love them deeply, and immensely. Look at this Greater Yellowlegs. It inspires me to become a better sandpip...er...er, person. Famosa Slough, San Diego, CA.

Well birders...its time to hang up the binoculars. The rigors and demands of a nonbirding life call, so I am pulling out of the whale's vagina (pun intended) for a week, to head up to northern California for a wedding. This is not the end of my reign in San Diego County however...I'll be spending the last two weeks of August here, wringing out vagrants. After that, Perpetual Weekend 2012-2013 will kick in and I will be free at last. 

What are shorebirds all about? Buddies. Unlike birders, they are really good at making friends. Same species, different species, it doesn't matter. They cannot help but team up. Like magnets. This Greater Yellowlegs and Wilson's Phalarope are a prime example.

This is what buddies do.

They stop and reflect on their short and hypothetically meaningless existences at the same time. The yellowlegs thinks it proper to scan the sky at times like these, the phalarope examines its own reflection. Two different philosophies. Neither is wrong.

I don't know what is happening here, but surely it is a sign of an enduring friendship and needle-billed comraderie. This phalarope was all about a small flock of Greater Yellowlegs, often foraging in the muddy water the yellowlegs would kick up as they walked around. The yellowlegs didn't seem to mind the phalarope's constant close proximity. Like I said...buddies.

People don't think of yellowlegs as being striking birds. This is usually true. But they look hella good for a few months of the year (front). Then they turn in to anonymous gray things (rear).

Light-footed Clapper Rail. Clapper Rails can afford to be less shy than their smaller cousins, because the terrible sounds they make would deter any predator. Famosa Slough, San Diego, CA.

This Clapper just sonically destroyed a small razor clam.


Heermann's Gull: a very nice gull. Sea World, San Diego, CA.

Is this a BB&B first? I think it is. Cassin's Kingbirds are widespread in southern California and do well in disturbed and suburban areas, especially in winter. Dairy Mart Ponds, Tijuana River Valley, CA.

This intricately colored coat of armor belongs to a Western Fence Lizard (I have no idea what subspecies). Pretty cool though. San Elijo Lagoon, CA.

Pretty amazing patterning for such a common (and small) beast. I feel bad for mammal enthusiasts. Fur doesn't come in many patterns...scales and feathers > hair.

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.

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!

Prairie Shorebirds I

Shorebirds make me want to puke....with glee. Semipalmated and Baird's (top) Sandpipers on their way south from the high Arctic.

Hello Piping Plover. What it do?

I'll be the first to admit, I've kind of always had a shorebird fetish. Pretty wild and crazy I know. They were the first group of birds I really got enthusiastic about learning to identify and sort through...well, ducks were the first, but they were too easy. I grew up in coastal Ventura County, north of Los Angeles County in southern California, which has a number of good shorebird spots. There was always stuff to look for. More than once I managed over 30 different shorebird species in a day, which I reckon is difficult to do anywhere, and not something I've done anywhere else.

Shorebirds are great. For one, not only do we have a large diversity of them in the United States, but unlike flashier birds (i.e. warblers) some people can't even handle them. They are an acquired taste. And when confronted with separating Least, Western, Semipalmated, Baird's and White-rumped Sandpipers as a beginning birder...I can see why. Appreciating shorebirds is all about subtleties...from how to identify Short-billed and Long-billed Dowitchers to the subtle and intricate patterns that the birds wear themselves.

Always mellow on their wintering grounds, Willets turn into ferocious beasts on the prairie. Watch out, they go for the eyes.

Another reason birders hesitate to embrace our long-legged friends is that it can be bloody hard to approach these things. Looking through a flock of small birds half mile away on a mudflat is not actually fun, whether you have a scope or not. Thus it can be hard to get to know these birds, so to speak, to get to know their habits and personalities. And how can we appreciate something we don't know?

One of the birding perks in North Dakota are the number of shorebirds here, both migrants and breeders. But its the nesting birds that get ones attention....because they hate you. They want you to die. They would like to probe the inside of your skull with those long beaks. When you are close to a shorebird nest out here, most species will let you know by A) Making incredibly annoying sounds, B) Attacking you or C) Both. The snipe and the Spotted Sandpipers are discreet, but the others are not. Any experienced birder knows the agony of trying to watch shorebirds with a nervous Killdeer around...they are about as fun as listen to as a car alarm. When a Killdeer gets scared, hundreds (sometimes thousands) of other birds in the area tune in and take off, since they often use the Killdeer as a kind of watchdog (watchplover). It's quite frustrating.

Repeated attempts to rechristen Marbled Godwits as Garbled Modwits by dyslexic members of the birding community have failed.

Shorebirds also have good timing. Spring migration can last from March until June, and fall migration June until as late as November in some areas. They are always on the move, and can turn up anywhere...many species are prone to vagrancy...Little Stints, a Lesser Sand-Plover and a Curlew Sandpiper in California this year have left birders drooling and incapable of speech for days.* Several have reported to have spontaneously shat themselves upon viewing these remarkable birds, all of which I believe were in breeding plumage. In past years I have seen two of these three, but my underwear have remained mysteriously untainted.

I guess what we're ultimately dealing with here at BB&B today is a bunch of the shorebirds that you can find in the prairie states. As you all know, there are others...I'll put up the next installment soon. Ok.

*Some refer to this trend of Eurasian shorebirds appearing in the United States as "The Siberian Express". You can expect large amounts of ridicule should you choose to utter this phrase in mixed company.
























Wilson's Snipes are abundant nesters on the prairie, but they hate being photographed generally. It took two months to get this picture! Oh right, I'm not a photographer...that explains it.



















Thankfully, Lesser Yellowlegs migrate through the area in small numbers. In the foreground, a Red-necked Phalarope (left) and a few Wilson's lurk.

In the center (or perhaps the "centre") is a female Wilson's Phalarope, still in her bright breeding colors...drabber males and molting females are in the background. A Killdeer managed a good photobomb though.

Wry Half-Truths From A Privileged Youth

Bobolink. Who does not sing praises of the blonde-haired black bird with the R2D2 voice?

And here we are. Late July is right around the corner, which means I only have one month left in North Dakota. To say that I'm stoked would be an understatement. Come August 20 I will hunt the horizon once more...Yellowstone National Park (for birding and charismatic megafaunaing), then Las Vegas (decidedly not for birding), then to the California coast. It will be truly cathartic to be among friends and like-minded souls once again, not to mention all the shows I have lined up (DESCENDENTS!!!!!!!!!!). But the price I will pay will be the hole left in my heart from the birds here. Shorebirds are beginning to migrate south already, but prairie celebrities like Sprague's Pipits, Baird's and Grasshopper Sparrows, and Chestnut-collared Longspurs are all still singing with gusto.

I do expect birds to quit singing within a couple weeks, but I am a stranger here. Who knows how long the breeders will keep at it? North Dakota is a bizarre place indeed.

One of the Chipping Sparrows that raised a fam next to my trailer.

Bank Swallows have recently shown up, presumably finished with breeding already.

Rad.

Redheads are common breeders around these parts. For some reason, Redheads and Ruddies are the only ducks around now who still bother to look good...all the other ducks are laying low in their homely eclipse plumages.

Upland Sandpiper. They are real, dignified sentinel birds, unlike those bullshit killdeer who just sit and there and scream. Any time you are walking around a wetland and take the time to look around, you may find an Upland high in the sky spying on you.

Wilson's Phalarope: THE SCOURGE OF THE PRAIRIE. I have come across a number of poor souls who have fallen to the needle-sharp bill of the phalarope. Their bodies are riddled with tiny holes...my sympathies to the thousands who have suffered death by phalarope.

This coyote and I were having a face-off, as there was a Piping Plover nest halfway between us I wanted to get to. Not wanting to show the coyote exactly where the nest was (they are a frequent plover predator), and with the coyote wondering what I was doing right next to its den, we just sat and stared at eachother. It was a cocky bastard, pretending to fall asleep while we waited.