Yellow-billed Magpies of Convenience

Any birder visiting California for the first time is absolutely drooling over the thought of seeing a Yellow-billed Magpie. Not only are they a stunning and fascinating bird, they are endemic to the state! With fall migration not far off (a time when many birders visit California, coinciding with pelagic season), I thought now would be a good time to give a few pointers on where to find them in my realm of our great state. Obviously you can check eBird for ideas of where to find them, but for birders who will find themselves in the greater bay area, or taking Highway 101 between the bay and southern California, let me make it easy for you.

While Yellow-billed Magpies can be locally common here along the western edge of their range, it is possible to miss them if you aren't looking in the right places. To prevent that devastating scenario, here are three of the best, most reliable and convenient spots to find them if you find yourself birding in these areas or just passing through.

Palm Avenue/Coyote Valley Open Space Preserve, Morgan Hill, Santa Clara County. Just south of the San Jose megasprawl, this site is just a few minutes from Highway 101 and is very, very reliable for magpies, both along the southwestern part of Palm Avenue and at the parking lot for the preserve at the end of the road. You can also walk the trails in the preserve (no admission fee) and see them there if you miss them on the way in. This is a great area for raptors in season (Golden Eagles, Prairie Falcons, Ferruginous Hawks) and a tame Rock Wren can sometimes be found at the parking lot.

Alternatively, you can see magpies at the west end of nearby Laguna Avenue, though they are not as reliably available for close views. This is another great area for raptors (I found a Zone-tailed Hawk here!) and other open country birds. Any blackbird flock will typically contain Tricolored Blackbirds, particularly from early fall through winter; this is another popular target bird for birders from out of the area and they are very regular here. Bird along the road from Santa Teresa Blvd southwest to where Laguna ends; the end of the road is best for magpies.

Tricolored Blackbirds and Brown-headed Cowbirds with their bovine companion in a pasture next to Laguna Ave. This site is not as legendary for seeing Tricoloreds as Moonglow Dairy (Monterey County) or Outer Point Reyes (Marin County), but they are readily available to be picked out of any blackbird flock in this part of Coyote Valley.

If you have more time available in the area, magpies are fairly widespread in Santa Clara County (more so than any other bay area county!) and are waiting to be found in a number of other places, though mostly not as close to a major highway.

Mines Road, Livermore, Alameda County. Highway 580 is another major regional artery and you may find yourself out that way, cutting between the east bay and the Central Valley. A highly dependable magpie stronghold here is the northern part of Mines Road; you can start looking for them as soon as you turn on to Mines off of Tesla Road. There are many eBird hotspots along Mines Road, but here is the general one for your edification.

Mines Road is a well-known birding area and can provide hours of birding entertainment, depending on the season and how far you are willing to go. Other target species further down this road include Northern Pygmy-Owl, Greater Roadrunner, Bell's Sparrow, Lawrence's Goldfinch, and Lewis's Woodpecker.

A confiding bird struts through one of the Bradley rest stops, which are popular loitering and rummaging ground for area magpies.

Highway 101 Bradley rest areas, Monterey County. This is well south of the greater bay area, but so many birders come through here on their way to or from the bay, I just have to mention it. If you are using Highway 101 to cover some significant distance, you will likely find yourself passing through the Bradley area in southern Monterey County. Just south of Bradley there are two rest stops, one for southbound traffic and one for northbound traffic. Both of these rest stops are very good for very approachable magpies; often you can see them before you get a chance to park. The southbound stop is particularly reliable for them...I have missed them here, but most of the time the magpie viewing doesn't get any easier.

That's about all there is to it! Magpies are loud and extremely conspicuous, so finding them isn't very complicated if you can get yourself to the right areas. I won't jinx you and say you are guaranteed to see them at these places...but it will be hard to not see them.

The Human Birdwatcher Project Presents: Birding by Flavor Profile

Sibley uses words like "neat, clean, striking" to describe Buller's Shearwater. Dunn uses "gleaming, graceful" and..."striking". All of these descriptions are true, and in the case of "striking", double true, but what if I told you that this bird could be described in an entirely different way? The depth of this bird's nuanced but definitively unsubtle visual flavor profile is nothing short of bottomless. The mellowing effects of the strong vanilla notes fades before the abrupt finish, as the bird disappears into a trough forever, never to be seen again...and you are left needing more. The aftertaste? A hint of calamari and a whole lot of desire.

The foodie. The wine connoisseur. The beer sommelier. The cicerone. The coffee cupper. I don't have a whole lot in common with these people. I still eat Top Ramen with rigor, even though I am 13 years removed from college. I hardly drink wine at all, and I will drink Tecate or Pabst or Hamm's just as happily as most (not all) other beers. I do love good coffee, but there is no way I would ever pay to go cupping. However, there is something that all these food and drink snobs have in common with one another, and with myself...in order to be so in enthusiastic abound indulging themselves in food and drink and trying to convey that to people, they also need to have a love of the language that comes with the territory.

If you don't know what I'm talking about, here are excerpts from a breakingbourbon.com (which has some great content if you like your bourbon...and you know how BB&B feels about bourbon) review about Sazerac's 2013 George T. Stagg Straight Bourbon. To wit:

"Sitting with this bourbon for the first time you're instantly hit with a sense that this is a sophisticated bourbon. A smell of aged wood, raisin, caramel and a hint of corn dance across your nose, transporting you right to the middle of an aging warehouse on a warm spring day in Kentucky. While the alcohol wants to overpower the senses, overall the balance of the wood smell evens this bourbon out nicely. Let this one sit for a few minutes, and the smell just keeps getting more and more delicious...Initially a sweet taste of caramel hits your tongue that instantly is replaced with a taste of all-spice and leather... As it mellows, you get hints of candy corn and rubber, finishing on a note of wet wood and tobacco."

Fascinating. Now I'm not familiar with this particular bourbon, but this is a very interesting description, fanciful as it may seem. Candy corn? Rubber? I've consumed a lot of bourbon and those tastes have never entered my mind. It's ridiculous and whimsical but people really get off on this sort of thing. As easy as it is to just call "bullshit" on this sort of thing, I think it's fantastic that folks are being so creative and enthusiastic in describing something that a lot of consumers put no mental effort into characterizing whatsoever...i.e. a lot of people relegate coffee to being either good or bad, hot or cold. Nothing more. But there is so much more!

And now to finally bring this post around to birds...here at the Human Birdwatcher Project, we firmly believe that "birders are people too!", and in the last decade a whole lot of people have bought in to the foodie treatment thing. I think it is time that birds get the same sort of attention to detail that so much of the nonbirding world has been delving into. All too often a bird is described the same way over and over again...beautiful, bright, cute...striking...or on the other end of the spectrum, dull, plain, or even than repulsive cliche that never seems to die, "little brown job". These abundantly used descriptors are ok for field guides, which have little space available and require utilitarian phrasing regardless, but what about all the other bird books? The magazine and web articles? The blogs and the trip reports? We can do better, bird writers! What would it be like to apply these foodcore descriptions to a bird's appearance...a visual flavor profile, so to speak? Well, there is only one way to find out...

Yellow-billed Magpie. This endemic demands your attention. To look away when a magpie is near is to do your eyes, heart, and visual palate injustice. Most of what this bird has to offer, strictly in terms of looks, is a sudden blast to the retinas; it is superbly balanced, with strong notes of oak and dried grass. You see what you get very quickly, though this is a bird that needs to enjoyed both while it is perched and in flight. When seen close up and in good light, you will notice a salty but wet taste - these are the tears flowing down your face, which the magpie's incredible iridescence has triggered reflexively.

Before we go on, all of these food and drink items that get critiqued are typically assigned some sort of score, mostly because people really like to rank things. With that in mind, and because birders still mercilessly use the word "jizz" seriously (birders are still clueless, apparently), I will now introduce the Bourbon, Bastards & Birds Visual Jizz Tasting Scale™! The magpie gets an 8/10 on the scale, with the only significant mark against it being that much of it appears identical to Black-billed Magpie.

Lewis's Woodpecker. Few birds taste as utterly unique...visually...as a Lewis's Woodpecker. This bird is sherbet for your eyes, but also so much more. A big woodpecker almost the size of a crow that is black, green, gray, red and pink...what? How can that be? But just like Jagermeister and soy eggnog sound absolutely incomprehensible together, we know it somehow works. And unlike Jagnog, encountering a Lewis's Woodpecker will never fill you with pain or regret the next day. Your soul will be full, though you may have an undeniable urge to track down some rasberry sorbet.

A criminally underrated species, Lewis's Woodpecker gets the high marks on the BB&B Visual Jizz Tasting Scale™: 9/10

House Finch (juvenile). Not only do species vary in their visual flavor profiles from one another, a single species can vary significantly in plumage as well. Take the House Finch. Despite seeing thousands of House Finches every year, every once in a while I will still be struck by a particularly bright male beaming his cranberried colors into my eyes. They are visually a mess, like they fell into some strawberry compote, but you can't deny that berry-colored birds are well received no matter how sloppy their attire. This juvenile House Finch, on the other hand...well, this just doesn't inspire the visual taste buds. It is overall bland but slightly tart, with textures of dead leaves and clay-laden soils. The more of these you see, the quicker the bitterness accumulates. Looking at this bird reminds me of eating a stale saltine...a stale saltine with no salt. Some of the fresh browns are warm and mellowing, sure, but there is no other shortage of brown birds that are far more inspiring. It doesn't help that the species is also ubiquitous (much like corn syrup and palm oil) and nonnative to much of the country. This particular bird gets points for fresh plumage and not much else; if most birds looked like this, there would not be birdwatchers.

The juvenile House Finch gets a 2/10 on the BB&B Visual Jizz Tasting Scale™.

A harsh review? Perhaps. I have no animosity toward House Finches, but we need to be true to our tastes, true to ourselves, and true to the birds (not to mention the jizz). Like food and drink, birds cannot be savored equally.

How about a couple more? I will now hand over the blog reins to my co-blogger Cass for some additional species, to get his take on birding flavor profiles.

Blue headed vireo. Maybe it’s just the eye ring but this bird inspires a deep lust for rolls. Sushi rolls to be exact. An understated blend of subtle flavors and textures, wingbars and flankwash, covert edging and vent glitz, this vireo was built with the same ethos that went into the architecture an 8 piece Kappa maki….HARMONY. As with most things Japanese, an element of  asymmetry is found in the final analysis. Chaos, i.e. nature, must have the final edit. With this bird it is that hooked crab-cracker glued to the front of its face. The bill is the bite, the wasabi punch that carries the vireo through is flirtation with mundanity and buries its memory deep in your stomach. A point blank viewing will make your eyes water and your grip on reality will be touch and go. As with sushi, the viewer is satiated with surprisingly little, as the visual nutrition is so dense. A gastronomical bonus; the blue headed vireo’s casual foraging speed, somewhere between the boorish/jolting sit-then-sally Empid and the frenetic wood warbler, also promotes proper digestion. Itadakimass!

Wood Duck (female). Belonging to the forgotten 3rd tribe of anatidids, the lurkers (the other two being, of course, the dabblers and divers), this backwater beauty is the chic, ice-veined femme fatale to her overblown, coked-out counterpart in the 80’s power couple known as Aix sponsa. Even the scientific moniker smacks of a New Wave band name.

Now to assess this birds flavor profile. For starters, resist the temptation to pick up this F%#*ING PERFECT duck and stuff it in your pocket. If resistance proves futile then bury your face in her neck and inhale the heady top notes of fermenting algae. Next, place her feet in your mouth in the hopes of ingesting a rogue toad egg she has caught between her toes. The numbing effect of the bufotoxin should kick in shortly, just in time for you to offer her a mouthful of mosquito larva that she will most likely attack with fervor and violence. The feeding will leave you with hideous face scars you'll carry with you for the rest of your days. Though you won’t feel a thing due to the bufotoxin, your heart will soar as you add another tick to your animals-that-have-eaten-out-of-my-mouth list.

Whoa. Well, this just goes to show you how many ways the visual flavor profile can go...who knew things would veer toward Nyotaimori? Birding by flavor profile isn't going to revolutionize the arcane genre of bird writing, but I think there are avenues of perceiving and describing birds that birders should be open to exploring.

Roadside Attractions, A Particular Cuteness, Sustained Facemelt, Dorsal or Death

One of the good birding opportunities that comes packaged with going to SoCal every year is my favorite rest stop on Highway 101. That's right, the Patagonia rest stop is not my favorite rest stop...ya'll can have that one. If I hear someone describe the Patagonia Picnic Table Effect one more time like it's some novel new idea, said someone will be destroyed. Anyhow, I want the rest stop with Yellow-billed Magpies.

Those that live in the valley may get to see a lot of magpies on the regular, but for those of us who don't (which is most of us), they are not a trash bird by any means...they are a glorious endemic, and are aesthetically superior to the continent's other magpie. Just look at this especially leggy individual with yellow eyeliner.

Another quick stop off Highway 101 on the way south was productive; this FOY/LOY Ross's Goose had been living at a dirty little duck pond at the Gonzales Winery for several years. Like every Ross's Goose, it was small and mellowing. A few Ross's have been known to make this tradeoff in California in the past, seemingly exchanging the chance to pass on their genes for endless free handouts. Interesting approach.

Though I haven't lived there since the year 2000, my Ventura County list is still higher than any other county list I maintain...and though that statement was supposed to reflect on how good birding can be in Ventura at times, it probably reflects more on how pathetic I am at county listing, which I am very proud of. Anyhow...aside from success with the Little Gull, I managed to get a modest amount of additional birding in. Burrowing Owls winter in low numbers on the Oxnard Plain, sometimes right next to poison dispensers meant to kill their ground-squirrel friends. Yikes.

Unfortunately, life is not all Yellow-billed Magpies, Little Gulls and Burrowing Owls. Life primarily consists of Savannah Sparrows. That's right, life is Savannah Sparrows. Your average day is a Savannah Sparrow, a bird that is neither that good or that bad, and ultimately not incredibly memorable. Photographed at Arnold Road on the Oxnard Plain.

My parents' yard in east Ventura has been made into a hummingbird magnet of sorts since I moved away...though they are still waiting for a Broad-billed or Violet-crowned (which is a way overdue bird to be refound in the state), they do get a pretty good showing of the expected California species. I never got a Calliope in Ventura County, but a number of them have passed through their yard...there is nothing like getting gripped off by your own flesh and blood. They get multiple Costa's Hummingbirds every year, one or two of which often overwinter.

Aside from the typical field marks, female Costa's have a particular "cute" quality overall that female Anna's and Black-chinned lack. These species, which are admittedly very similar, are frequent sources of confusion for birders in the western states, particularly in geri-bound Arizona, where there are a great many hummingbirds and a great many birders unable to identify them very well.

If a jet of hot sugary hummingbird pee being fired out of an Anna's Hummingbird is the sort of thing you're into, then I don't have to convince you to spend some time looking at this graphic photo.

After seeing many thousands of Anna's Hummingbirds over the years, I can tell you that the facemelt wrought by an adult male Anna's is still alive and well.

Isn't this absurd???

As one of LA's leading lights of birding recently pointed out via listserv, this angle is not at all helpful in identifying male Allen's or Rufous Hummingbirds...give me dorsal or give me death. Though some could be tricked into thinking that this a Rufous Hummingbird, this is actually a very typical-looking Allen's Hummingbird when viewed at other angles.

Here is a immature male Allen's, displaying no real helpful field marks at all. These days Allen's are much more common year-round residents at my parents' place than 20 years ago; I think there's a lot more overwintering in east Ventura overall now.

In a bid to bring BB&B even more fame and fortune, let's wrap this post up with a bird that almost no one has any interest in...a hen American Wigeon. No one is at fault for that, since this lawn-loving grazing machine aesthetically brings little to the table. This individual doesn't have much of a black gape border, which is a field mark that can help differentiate female Americans from Eurasians. The popularity of this field mark has always been a bit of mystery to me, because if you are close enough to see this obscure bit of coloring you shouldn't be struggling to tell the two species apart. Photographed in Conejo Creek Park, Thousand Oaks, CA.

Bay Area Specialties

Heermann's Gull is one of the many California specialties that the bay area is home to. It's just one of our common local birds, but visiting nerds from outside the state drool over a lot of the species we get to enjoy on the regular.

The bay area. Home to millions of people, millions of birds, and several thousand birders. Nine different counties come into contact with the bay, and almost all of them offer a multitude of high quality birding spots. If you put aside the unfortunate traffic factor, it's a perfect recipe for quality birding almost year-round.

Because the bay area has so much to offer in the way of birding opportunities, and is such a population center and transportation hub, we get a lot of visiting birders here. Aside from chaseable rarities, they are usually looking for the same set of species. Since we at BB&B are here to serve you, dear sweet most loveable reader, we thought we would slap together a quick post on where to find some of the most highly sought-after local goodness.

Before we dive in, I have to get the standard disclaimer out of the way...eBird and the local listservs are invaluable resources on where your target birds and bonus rarities have been observed lately. Check them thoroughly and frequently!

Ridgway's Rail can be challenging to see, but they have multiple strongholds in the bay where they are relatively common. They vocalize frequently and loudly, so if you are into counting heard-only birds, tracking this species down should not be problematic. Far and away the easiest place to see RIRA is at Arrowhead Marsh in Alameda County. They can be seen at any tide, and during winter king tides it's not unusual to see multiple individuals at once that have been pushed out of the marsh. Black Rails, while almost impossible to see, are resident at China Camp State Park (Marin), Martinez Regional Shoreline (Contra Costa), and the saltmarsh next to Alviso Marina (Santa Clara), among other places.

Mountain Plover is exceedingly rare in the coastal counties, but are regularly found in Solano County during winter. Explore the fields east and west of Highway 113 (east of Vacaville, west of Rio Vista) during the winter. Again, eBird may be able to save you some time and point you toward the right pasture.

Pacific Golden-Plovers are very uncommon and tend to only sporadically show up within the bay, but a reliable place in fall and winter is Schollenberger Park in Petaluma (Sonoma County), where they often roost at high tide, or can be seen feeding in the adjacent mudflats if you are there with the right tide and a good amount of luck. Spaletta Plateau on Point Reyes is another reliable place for golden-plovers during the fall.

Rockpipers are consistently in high demand. Surfbirds can be found both in the bay (the little island at the San Leandro Marina (Alameda), roosting on the south side of Marina Park Pathway at high tide at the Emeryville Marina (Alameda)), and along the coast. Wandering Tattlers are much easier to find on the coast than in the bay, but are the most difficult rockpiper to track down. Check structures off Fort Mason, the rocks at Sutro Baths (both in San Francisco), and the outer breakwaters at the Pillar Point Harbor (San Mateo County). Black Oystercatchers and Black Turnstones are common and widespread.

Thayer's Gulls are typically not hard to find, but often present a significant ID challenge to those inexperienced with them. We have no shortage of confusing hybrid gulls to confuse them with. Thayer's can be tracked down in winter in San Francisco's Golden Gate Park (Stow Lake and Lloyd Lake), the mouth of Pilarcitos Creek (San Mateo County) and the north end of Oyster Bay Regional Shoreline, among many other places. Herring runs can feature impressive numbers of Thayer's and regularly lure in a Slaty-backed Gull or two every winter; check listservs for San Francisco, Marin and Contra Costa counties if you are around in January or February, it is great gulling and a great spectacle.

If you can't get on a pelagic trip, there are several good spots for seawatching - try Pigeon Point (San Mateo), the south end of Ocean Avenue (San Francisco), Sutro Baths (San Francisco), or Bodega Head (Sonoma). Depending on the time of year, you can find sea ducks, loons, shearwaters, jaegers, alcids (including Ancient and Marbled Murrelets in winter), etc. Of course, a scope is a requirement and the earlier in the morning you go the better.

Burrowing Owls have lost much of their habitat around the bay to urbanization, but thankfully are still holding on in a few areas, especially down in Santa Clara County (i.e. Azino Ranch), near the east shore of Cesar Chavez Park (Alameda) and the access road to Arrowhead Marsh (Alameda). Fall and winter is typically best for finding these cute little bastards.

Yellow-billed Magpie is an endemic, and rightfully one of the most sought-after species in the entire state...luckily we get them along the western edge of their range. Try Mines Road, just south of Livermore (Alameda), where a little effort should reward you.

California Thrasher is widely distributed, but uncommon in patches of chaparral in many bay area counties. They are resident and can be found year round, but are easiest to find in spring when they are singing the most frequently. Mount Diablo and Claremont Canyon (Contra Costa County), and Mines Road come to mind as reliable areas...this species is relatively widespread in the bay area, but many of their strongholds aren't places that get besieged by birders.

If you are new to West Coast birding, you may not know how tricky (to put it nicely) it can be to find many western migrants here that are not as difficult in other parts of the state, both in terms of quantity and diversity. For example, spring birding in Kern County will easily bag you migrant Gray, Hammond's and Dusky Flycatchers...but those birds all come with a *rarity* tag here in the bay. Actually, I've never even seen a Dusky Flycatcher here, now that I think about it. I've seen more American Redstarts on the coast than I have MacGillivray's Warblers...migration is a bizarre and wonderful thing.

Despite how uncommon a lot of western migrants are here at any given season, I would be remiss to neglect mentioning Point Reyes, one of the best migrant traps on the entire west coast, best birded from late August to early November. While known as a magnet for eastern birds, the Outer Point patches will give you a better shot at bagging species like Hermit and Black-throated Gray Warblers than other coastal migrant traps through the fall. The patches at Bodega Bay (Sonoma) can also be very productive in fall. During spring migration, Mount Diablo (Contra Costa) can offer a nice variety of western migrants and breeders, including the drab but ever-popular Cassin's Vireo.

Tricolored Blackbird is a near-endemic, sought by many out of state birders. Luckily, a significant proportion of the population hangs out at Point Reyes during the fall. A quick look at the blackbird flocks at "B" Ranch or "C" Ranch always rewards birders. Rush Ranch Open Space (Solano) and Del Puerto Canyon Road (Santa Clara) are also good bets.

Lawrence's Goldfinches are a tough customer...you may just have to grind and grind to find one of these little cripplers. Sometimes they are present throughout the year, sometimes they don't linger so long, but spring and summer is your best bet, though you have a legitimate chance of getting them in the fall. Try Mines Road (in both Alameda and Santa Clara counties) and Del Puerto Canyon Road (Santa Clara County).

I know, I know, I probably didn't mention one of the birds you are looking for and you're pretty bummed about it, but life goes on. Some birds are just really tough to connect with (i.e. Northern Pygmy-Owl) and others are so common that you should have no trouble tracking them down (Allen's Hummingbird in season, Nuttall's Woodpecker, Wrentit, etc.). At any rate, hopefully this post will come in handy for a few people and some wanton lifering will be carried out. Good luck out there!

The California Breakdown

Have you felt an itch lately? Maybe it's that Yellow-billed Magpie, Island Scrub-Jay, California Gnatcatcher, Ashy Storm-Petrel or Ridgway's Rail that you need to scratch. You must be thinking about doing some birding in California. The Great Ornithologist Felonious Jive breaks down some of the most productive regions, and what to expect, over at 10,000 Birds.

A Stout Year

Resplendent Quetzal is one of the top contenders for Most Facemelting Bird of 2013...the mind reels. Photographed above the Savegre Lodge in Costa Rica.

2013 has come and gone...that was quick. There is no doubt other blogs in the Birdosphere have done some recaps of the year (Neil Hayward is the champ...Bell's and Sagebrush Sparrows...Rufous-necked Wood-Rail...Zino's Petrel birder politics and subsequent redemption...yadda yadda). Of course, you know all that stuff, so why rehash it? No, you came here for one reason...# 7.

For years now, I've been almost-enthusiastically year listing, more as a way to get out and birding and exploring new places than anything else...in other words, its fun but neither competitive or intense. It is a very good way to spend a Perpetual Weekend. In 2012 I finished with ~579 (birding in California, Florida, and Costa Rica), and this year it looks like I will be finishing with ~690 (Costa Rica, California, North Carolina). 690 is by far the highest year list I've ever had, and I'm pretty happy about that...of course, I could have gotten to 700 with just a little more luck (not dipping as much, having a better fall for vagrants in the bay area, one more day of landbirding in North Carolina).

700 will have to wait another year though, and I have a feeling it won't be 2014...but you never know. Without further delay, here is this leading birder's breakdown of 2013.

Number of new life birds: I don't know. Probably somewhere over 200? Costa Rica was insane.

Number of new ABA birds: 11 (8 in North Carolina, 3 in California).

Number of new California birds: 14 (including armchair ticks), with 4 in December!

Best lifer: This is hard. I saw so many. Copious lifers in 2013. Fork-tailed Flycatcher was something I'd yearned for for as long as I have been birding. Little Bunting was HUGE (not literally). Trindade Petrels brought the stoke. A rainbow of new hummingbirds were seen in Costa Rica. There's too many to choose from.

Best birder scandal: Although I really enjoy what is happening over here, it is no doubt the implosion of the San Diego birding scene (which resulted in the local listserv being completely abandoned for one operated by a different faction) and subsequent internet combat in San Diego, much of which went on behind the scenes. Remember "Todd Ingress", the fictional blind birder? Lines have since been drawn in the sand. WHOSE SIDE ARE YOU ON????

Bear witness to this vulgar display of endemism. Island Scrub-Jays were my constant companions for the spring and summer of 2013, even though I was not researching them. Santa Cruz Island (where else?), CA.

Best ABA bird: Little Bunting. I squeezed much satisfaction out of looking at this bird.

Best North Carolina bird: Trindade Petrel. Huge bonus bird.

Best California bird: Red-necked Stint on the LA River. Not the rarest, but it was number 500 for my state list. It was also number 500 for Officer Adam Searcy, who chased the bird with me. That makes us bird-married.

Best northern vagrant: Trumpeter Swans at Modoc National Wildlife Refuge (above). They are expected here in the winter so aren't vagrants per se, but the first time we saw them was an awesome experience. How to sum it up? State bird, majesty, spectacular sunset, serenaded by pleasant trumpeting, pleasant friends...followed by affordable beer and disgusting Basque food.

Best pelagic vagrant: Great Shearwater (off Half Moon Bay, in San Francisco County).

Best Siberian vagrant: I've already mentioned Little Bunting and Red-necked Stint...how about Arctic Loon? I was stoked to see the one wintering in Monterey (a state bird) after I returned from Costa Rica last January.

Best eastern vagrant: Hudsonian Godwit (Napa).

I have had a hell of a time photographing Gray Hawk over the years, despite living in southeast Arizona and spending a good amount of time in other places where they are easy to find (south Texas, Mexico, Costa Rica). I finally had some good luck last week with the bird in Carpinteria, CA...but I was robbed from the opportunity for even crushier shots (see below).

Best Central American Vagrant: Gray Hawk (first California record, Santa Barbara County.

Worst birder experience: A few days ago I was driving up to Oakland from SoCal and saw the Gray Hawk hanging out in its usual spot on Highway 101. The light was perf. I pulled over to crush it, making sure to give it plenty of space so it wouldn't flush into the side of a semi or something. As I got the bird in the viewfinder and was literally focusing on it, a black car pulled off the freeway and parked right next to the bird. You can guess what happened next, and the bird actually flew uncomfortably close to a moving truck that happened to be passing by. The car immediately left after flushing the bird. I was fucking pissed. To whoever you are, you are a dick, and I hope your year is filled with nothing but House Sparrows and feral pigeons.

I was really looking forward to meeting this bird in 2013...it did not disappoint. Fiery-throated Hummingbird is another candidate for Most Facemelting Bird of 2013. Photographed at Paraiso Del Quetzales in the Talamanca Mountains of Costa Rica.

Most facemelting bird: Fuck. I was in Costa Rica. Was it the quetzal? Was it Bay-headed or Speckled Tanager? Fiery-throated Hummingbird? I can't decide.

Worst dip: Dipping on "guaranteed" Masked Ducks in Costa Rica. Ouch. Dipping on Snowcap at one of the best sites for them in Costa Rica also wrought significant pain.

Worst overall miss: I did not see a longspur of ANY SPECIES in 2013. Sigh.

Worst birding experience: Breaking my birdcrusher for the second time in a year by having it detach from its strap and slam onto a sidewalk. This prevented an aggravating number of crushes in the subsequent weeks (Bald and Golden Eagles, Ferruginous and Rough-legged Hawks, Northern Goshawk, Prairie Falcon, Trumpeter Swans, etc.).

Worst day of birding: Going to Outer Point Reyes in early September and seeing exactly one (1) migrant bird, a Western Wood-Pewee. Life was pain.

Best Raptor: The Black-and-white Owl at Cerro Lodge in Costa Rica.

Best birder experience: Watching "Stilt" break down into tears when she did not get to see a Streak-chested Antpitta that the rest of us got to see. It was incredible...and don't worry, she saw it a few minutes later. A very close second was Officer Jon Dunn telling me that I am not fit to serve on the CBRC (because I don't "support the committee", not because I suck). The kicker is that although he was talking to me, about me, he did not recognize me for the person he was talking about...who does that?

Band-rumped Storm-Petrel was one of many lifer pelagic birds off North Carolina last August. I was stoked to get so much boat time this year, off both coasts. Being a leader on Shearwater Journeys trips was a lot of fun and I hope to do it again next year. Oh, I got seasick and puked for the first time this year, that was cool.

Best hybrid: Not rare by any means, but I looked at hella American X Black Oystercatcher hybrids in Ventura and Santa Barbara Counties. It's good practice.

Best bourbon: As with every year, I tasted many a bourbon this year...but I think Broken Bell is one of my new favorites.

Best beer: There's a lot of quality beer out there...but right now I miss Yuengling.

Best album: Bad Religion's True North. "I'm just a petrel in the storm; my island can't protect me anymore."

Greatest Coup of Birding: Oscar Johnson's ridiculous Common Swift above a random patch of desert in Riverside County, CA.

Best birder meme: THERE ARE SO MANY!!! Anything involving inner circles and puppetmasters. "It's too far for you to see"..."Black-chins are still migrating"..."Does he really pronounce it Justine?"...

This year I finally found a convenient/reliable spot for crushing Yellow-billed Magpies, one of California's most interesting, desired, and even poignant species. Photographed in Monterey County, CA.

Best California yearbirder: Dipper Dan. He may not have the highest total in the field, but he won.

Best self-found bird: A Slaty-backed Gull in Marin County (CA) was a long-awaited defeat of a state nemesis.

Best dream bird (aka best bird seen in a dream): Runt Harpy Eagle in northern California.

There were too many great bird trips to count this year, with new and old friends alike. I'm stoked to have such a strong network of friendly dorks available in a pasttime that is littered with people that I would rather avoid, and a girlfriend who is sympathetic to me being gone for months at a time and has a high tolerance for raging nerds. I'm looking forward to meeting more great people and great birds in 2014. I do have a quick trip planned in the very near future that should produce some cool shit (and cool tacos), but aside from that I really don't know where 2014 is going to take me for work or birding trips...and so the Perpetual Weekend rolls on.

The Yellow-billed Magpie: Our Endemic Virus-Battling Bereaver

California, due to the virtue of its size and location, is blessed with a number of birds that are difficult to find outside of the state. This helps make it the prime birding location that it is, but that's not all we have. We can also boast not one but TWO true endemics that are neither found in Mexico or any other states. How many other continental states can claim this? Florida, with its own scrub jay? I think that's it.

Yellow-billed Magpie is the endemic of the day, since I haven't seen Island Scrub-Jay in years. Magpies can be found pleasuring birders (strictly visually and audibly, of course) from Santa Barbara County north to Shasta County. Unlike their Black-billed relatives who dwell in the lands of snow and sage, Yellow-billeds are closely tied to low elevation oak woodlands and select agricultural areas.

Although still common in many areas, it is suspected that West Nile Virus has killed off a huge number of these birds, as much as half of their entire population at one point. We can only hope this endemic epidemic does not escalate.

Both Black-billed and Yellow-billed Magpies are known to participate in "funeral behaviors", where members will congregate at the body of a recently deceased bird, preen the deceased's feathers, make a lot of vocalizations and even deposit fresh vegetation next to the corpse. Chimps and elephants are also known for funeral behaviors (which they do differently, of course), but its pretty cool that our humble magpie is known for its expression sessions.

I have no doubt that, if it were able to, a Yellow-billed Magpie would pour out a 40 oz. for a fallen flock member.

It has been extirpated in some parts of its range, but magpies have had a stable population for decades until West Nile arrived in California. Hopefully the remaining birds are more resistant to the virus. The peak of their decline was in 2004-2006; things seem to have mellowed for them in the following years. Think of all the magpie funerals that went down back then...whole flocks must have gone to forage to that Great Oak Tree In The Sky.

All photos were taken on the western edge of Davis, CA.