Straight Outta Massachusetts

Few people know that I originated in the Berkshires, aka Berkshire County, aka The Shires of Berk, in western Massachusetts. That is where my dad's side of the family lived for many generations, and family still dwells there to this day. In October, I took my new family back to meet my old family, then drove out to the coast for something resembling an actual vacation...which, of course, means there was birding. Not hella, but enough to scratch the itch. I didn't really have any dedicated time to bird in the Berkshires (where I got a great many lifers when I was younger), but we did get to spend a lot of time outdoors around Cape Ann, Ipswich and Plum Island. While we didn't rack up a very high species list (we were too late for most Neotropical migrants, which had already gone south), we did see some east coast goodness and I got a handful of bird photos worth sharing. Oh yeah, I got a LIFE BIRD too.

This extremely confiding Downy Woodpecker voraciously attacked the stalk of a sunflower at Halibut Point State Park, which turned out to have some of the best birding of the trip. I think a lot of birders consider it primarily a seawatching site, but for a west coast birder starved for eastern passerines, it definitely hit the spot.

Not a whole lot was photographed, granted, but the birding was good! Yellow-bellied Sapsucker, Red-eyed and Blue-headed Vireos, Gray Catbird, Magnolia Warbler, Swamp and Field Sparrows were nice migrants. Flocks of White-throated Sparrows were larger than I had seen anywhere else. It had been a few years since I was around eastern White-breasted Nuthatches, which a look a bit different and sound a lot different from California birds. Remember, this was almost a split a few years ago.

As I said, Halibut Point is known for its quality of seawatching...I didn't have high hopes and didn't really intend on doing a serious seawatch, but it did not disappoint! The number of sea ducks going by was really impressive, we rarely see numbers like that moving on the west coast. In fact, I think the only place I've seen so many scoters on the move was in the Sea of Cortez.

White-winged Scoters were the most abundant migrant. Gannets went by in pleasing numbers, and Razorbills (something I did not expect) and Cory's Shearwaters (my first ever from land) were very nice to pick out. I could definitely see myself spending a whole lot of time here if I was in the area more often.

I really only had one target bird in mind for this trip though...Great Cormorant. I had never seen a Great Cormorant, but found them easily enough. Life bird! Not the juiciest life bird I've ever had, but hey a [native] life bird is a life bird. These two were at Bass Rocks, a traditional site for them, but I had them at a couple other locations as well. As advertised, they were both large and quite cormoranty.

Great Black-backed Gull is a novel bird to me. I really want to find one in California sometime. This one was at Eastern Point Wildlife Sanctuary in Gloucester, where there were great multitudes of sparrows and the only Indigo Bunting of the trip. It was a bit confusing to get there, but if you just ignore all the private property signs, everything is fine!

Chipping Sparrows are much more abundant on this part of the continent than what I am used to. Usually I look through flocks of sparrows to find a Chipping. In the east, you look through flocks of Chipping Sparrows to find something else. I got into a thick swarm of them at Eastern Point.

Eastern Point, and coastal Massachusetts in general, is SWAMP SPARROW COUNTRY. The locals here have no need to demand MAKE OUR COUNTRY SWAMP SPARROW AGAIN because the COUNTRY is already SWAMP SPARROW. This photo is proof.

Andrew's Point is another famed seawatching spot, just east of Halibut Point. I did a more dedicated seawatch here, and I'm glad I did. This GBBG (pronounced "guh-buh-buh-guh") has a moon nestled in the crook of its wing.

This dude pulled in a huge striped bass while I was there. He braved some serious surf, slippery rocks and terrible weather to land it...impressive. Most impressive. How come California fishermen don't go to such lengths? What have you got to say for yourselves?

The seawatching was very good here as well - I got my first Atlantic Northern Fulmar ever, a nice bird to bank in case of a split. Common Eiders (above) went by frequently, as did all the scoter species and a sizable number of Red-breasted Mergansers. Razorbills and Cory's Shearwaters made more appearances, and I saw my first eastern Red-throated Loon.

I was surprised to see a very distant Peregrine Falcon darting after something in between troughs. It caught something a few moments later, then headed back toward land to consume it. I was shocked to see it was a Leach's Storm-Petrel! I hadn't seen any at all, and would certainly not have seen this one (it was too windy and choppy) if the Peregrine had not caught it and showed it to me. Per eBird, another birder photographed a Peregrine doing the same thing to the same species a few years ago from the same spot.

After we left the Cape we headed west where we got another Airbnb at Great Neck, technically in Ipswich though it is not exactly close to town. Though the birding here was disappointing (it can be quite good apparently), it was a beautiful spot with access to a private beach. We were up on a hill overlooking Clark Pond and the mouth of Plum Island Sound...the southern end of Plum Island was just a few hundred yards away! Considering it takes almost an hour to get there by car, it's a pretty funny situation. For anyone who has not birded in the area, Plum Island/Parker River National Wildlife Refuge is a legendary birding spot in the state. Generally speaking, everything that shows up in Massachusetts seems to show up at Plum Island at some point, or within a few miles. Of course, we birded it, though the birds and the weather did not cooperate enough for much photography. This Song Sparrow (very different from the locals here in the bay area) took pity on me at least.

Parker River has lots of American Black Ducks throughout the year. In fact, probably the vast majority that I have seen in my life have been at this refuge over the years...but apparently I haven't seen enough to really provide meaningful commentary on them. What does it mean to be an American Black Duck? How is the soul of an American Black Duck different from that of a Mallard, a Mottled Duck, a Mexican Mallard? These are the things that keep me up at night.

This is the view of where we stayed, looking south from Plum Island.

Huh...guess I didn't do much crushing on that trip! Good thing I don't claim to be a photographer. The birding really was better than what the pictures indicate, seriously. Other avian highlights from Parker River include Long-tailed Duck, American Golden-Plover, Stilt and White-rumped Sandpipers, Fish Crow, Lapland Longspurs, a plethora of sparrows (Field, Swamp, Clay-colored, White-crowned, etc) and Purple Finches.

Maybe next time I'll get out to Cape Cod again. Did you see that footage from last year of shearwater flocks practically feeding on the beach (there's some good video *here* - skip to about 35 seconds in)? I want to be a part of that.

Oh yeah, Annie turns one today! I think she enjoyed the trip. She was particularly enthused about the apple orchard and a mudflat...she is a child of many habitats. I wonder if that ridiculous pink suit still fits, we need to get some more mileage out of it. Billy had a birthday this week too...much love to my girls, looking forward to our next trip together!

2016's Biggest Misses

I saw many species of birds in 2016, but Common Eider was not one of them. Not birding within a species' normal range tends to lead to stuff like that happening. Though I mourned the absence of this eider in my life last year, and grieved for the eiders I have never seen, this was not a species I had any expectations for in 2016. Despite myself I had a whole lot of other expectations around some other birds, which didn't always pan out. Photographed in Biddeford, ME.

Full disclosure...I like keeping year lists. I'm not a county birding fiend (well...in most counties), so while many birders use county listing as a form of twisted, embarrassing motivation to get them out and about, I will occasionally sip the nectar from my inner year listing well and use that as birding fuel. I've only done one Big Year of any sort ever, when I set the Ventura County record as a teenager...the record was obliterated the following year but it was fun at the time and (unusually for a birder) I was not at all butthurt about losing my place at the top when my record fell. It would be fun to do again someday, someplace, though the thought of doing it on an ABA scale leaves a bad taste in my mouth, and causes my testicles to retreat into my body.

But we are not here to talk about big years, at least not today, just year birding. I am lucky enough to have done a lot of birding in Y2K16. I did exceedingly well in the rare bird department in California, even finding a couple highly sought-after birds myself, got some summer birding done in Colorado (awesome), and completed wildly successful nerd trips to West Mexico and Puerto Rico. As far as I know, in only one or two other years have I ever seen more birds.

But instead of humblebragging about all that shit, I thought I would run through the most surprising and most torturous birds I could not find last year. There were some truly painful misses, and a number of species I really thought I would just run into somehow never materialized. So in no particular order, here are some birds that gave me the slip and/or finger in Y2K16.

White-winged Scoter. I really, truly thought I would see these more than once, but it just never happened. I spent quite a bit of time birding the right places, but they just never appeared. How embarrassing. This is an uncommon and somewhat local species in the state, and the subspecies we get here on the west coast is known to be in decline. Photographed at the San Leando Marina, San Leandro, CA.

Collared Plover. What is the deal with Collared Plover? I've never seen one, so I wouldn't know. Despite immersing ourselves in great coastal shorebird habitat and putting a great many hours toward trying to find this fucking bird, we had no glory. I am excellent at not seeing Collared Plovers, both in Costa Rica and Mexico. I expect I am just as adept at avoiding them in other countries. If you do not want to have to look at a Collared Plover, come hang out with me. To make my drawn-out discomfort with this bird even worse, Dipper Dan recently reminded me that he saw Collared Plover in Costa Rica, while on a trip with me, presumably while I was passed out in the car with food poisoning. Great.

Prairie Falcon. I missed Prairie Falcons and I miss Prairie Falcons. This is a very good bird along the coast (where I usually bird) but I thought I would get them in Colorado or the Mono Lake area. Napes. Maybe I need to bird the Central Valley more often. Photographed on the Carrizo Plain, California, where they are very dependable.

Glaucous Gull. While a definite rarity in the state, they are not terribly hard to see or find yourself if you look at gull flocks enough...at least that's what I used to think. Not only did I not see a Glaucous Gull in 2016, I have somehow not seen one since 2012. I have no idea how I have accomplished this incredible feat. This bird is turning into a sort of nemesis for me somehow, and I've still never seen an adult.

Masked Duck. What the fuck does a guy have to do to see a Masked Duck? Sell my soul to the devil? At this rate, that actually seems like a very reasonable proposition. While I assumed we would miss them in Nayarit/Jalisco/Colima (relatively rare there), we had a great chance to get them in Puerto Rico...that is until Officer Searcy assured Dipper Dan and I that we would see one. That predictably fucked everything up, and I continue on course to go to my grave without ever seeing one.

Red-breasted Chat. This is my new Mexican nemesis bird, and I don't say that lightly. I believe everyone who went on the trip got to see one except me...actually that's a lie. I saw one, but it was such a shit look I won't even consider counting this very unique and utterly crippling bird. At least, they seem utterly crippling in photographs, I wouldn't really know since I haven't seen one in real life. Nerds saw them at multiple sites while in Mexico but I just could not ever get on one. I blocked out the pain for a while but I can still feel it in the depths of my nerdbrain. Photographed by Dipper Dan at Microondas San Francisco, Jalisco, Mexico.

Amethyst-throated Hummingbird. As I've said before, getting our hummingbird targets in Mexico was very frustrating. Even more frustrating was other nerds in the group lifering this bird, which I sorely wanted to see. At least I can say I was busy getting my face melted off by one of the best mixed flocks in my life while they were on the hummingbirds. Mixed flock aside, I saw what were likely multiple individuals of this species zooming by, but never got the conclusive looks everyone else had. Butt. Hurt. Other dishonorable misses on the trip, aside from hummingbirds, include Banded Quail, Greater Swallow-tailed Swift, Thick-billed Parrot, Mangrove Vireo, Aztec Thrush and Colima Warbler. Not that those are necessarily easy birds, but they all would have changed my life forever. Well, maybe not the vireo...

Sandhill Crane and Tundra Swan. These are both common in the Central Valley in winter. These are both species that birders really get off on seeing, and I am not above that. They are both steeped in majesty and make sounds that make you feel good inside. Does it really take a Falcated Duck for me to get deep into the valley? Apparently so. I had to dig deep into the archives for a passable crane shot...this is from Camas National Wildlife Refuge in Idaho, in the spring of 2011.

Blackpoll Warbler. There is perhaps no better place west of Texas to see this bird than Point Reyes (where in the past I have seen six in one day), which I birded a lot last fall. In fact, I birded the point better and harder and more than any other year. For whatever reason there just weren't many in the bay area last fall. This was a bit of a freakish miss, but those things happen. Photographed at Point Reyes, CA.

Hawaiian Petrel. Another potential lifer that has abstained from lifering with me. Ever since seeing a couple Mottled Petrels (and even those were seen poorly/all too briefly) while cruising through the Aleutians in 2010, I have been on a solid petrel shut out. I have put in a lot of boat hours since then and have still never (fully) connected with this bird. During a chaotic episode on a boat last fall I was both utterly convinced I saw one and utterly convinced that I did not see one. Now...I just don't know, but I sure as shit do not have identifiable pictures of one from that day, so this remains a species I need to see, very badly.

Other standout misses from 2016 include Flesh-footed Shearwater. Harlequin Duck, Pectoral Sandpiper, Black-legged Kittiwake, Short-eared Owl, Lewis's Woodpecker and California Thrasher.

I have no idea what 2017 will bring as far as birding goes...I have no trips planned at all, and I compulsively am almost always planning birding trips. Hell, I might not even get 300 species this year, a number I've not failed to meet in a long time...a long time. Being a bird junkie and a new father will be an interesting juggling act, as most people are under the impression that addicts and junkies typically aren't the best parents. But whatever happens, make no mistake...there will be birds, though my "worst misses of 2017" post might be more embarrassing than this one*.

* = I haven't seen Great Blue Heron yet...time to panic????

Maynerayge Day 3: This Is Why I'm Not A Good Person

On day 3, we started the morning down at Biddeford Pool.  There seemed to be lots of warblers around, although most of them seemed to be Yellow Warblers at first.  The birding at the pool itself wasn't exactly thrilling, but the number of migrants flying around above us was a sign that we could not, would not, ignore.  Checking the beach quickly was rewarding, because Nate observed a middle-aged couple have a vicious fight, with the husband getting completely ditched and left on the beach smoking a cigar of sadness.  Hoping for good birding, I once again left my camera in the car, which worked like a charm.  Less than an hour later we were in a huge swarm of migrants that refused to go away.  It seemed like that this one small grove of trees were sucking in migrants from everywhere....Blackpolls, a Bay-breasted, Canadas, Northern Waterthrush, Chestnut-sided, etc., even an out-of-place Field Sparrow. We were glued to that spot for most of the morning; it was one of the better mixed flocks I've seen north of Mexico.  Good thing I didn't bring my camera!

After the turnover in the rampaging flock seemed to die down a little bit, we went out to East Point, where there were a couple Bicknell's/Gray-cheeked Thrushes mixed in with the Swainson's Thrushes, and I got to hear a Gray-cheeked Thrush sing for the very first time.  Tree Swallows were nesting in bird houses built like lighthouses, which I'm sure just tickles some people.

Near the rocky shore we found the first Long-tailed Duck and Merlin of the trip, along with a small creche of Common Eider kids, which was pretty cute.  Common Eiders are thick in Maine, even in summer, which is a very good thing.  While the west coast certainly has a much better and more interesting rockpiper community, the east coast has a raging seaduck scene.

Down by South Point, we lay waste to a flock of Common Eiders that only seemed to give the mildest of fucks about our presence.  I've seen a lot of Common Eiders in Massachusetts and the Aleutian Islands (and one in California, thank you very much), but never had I seen them at such a fantastically crushable distance.

To borrow one of Nate's favorite adjectives, these birds are splendid.  Looking at them from a modest distance is an extremely fulfilling experience, up close it's on a whole new level.

The full spectrum of Common Eider plumages.

This doesn't even make sense.  Such novel bill structure.

After Biddeford Pool, we went to Kennebunk Plains for Upland Sandpipers and Bobolinks.  It was hella windy and the birding left something to be desired...while we went on to find Bobolinks at a number of other places, we never ran into any Upland Sandpipers.  There are no Upland Sandpipers in Maine.

While there may not be Upland Sandpipers, there are very resourceful Prairie Warblers.  This one was attacking a pile of used toilet paper to use as nesting material. I didn't see it but Flycatcher Jen observed copious amounts of human feces in association with the nest material.  Talk about going to browntown.

This is the most humorous thing I've ever seen a warbler do.

The male was nearby, doing things other than wallowing whimsically in human waste.

Vesper Sparrow was one of the commoner birds out on the plains; Eastern Meadowlark and Grasshopper Sparrow were good trip birds as well.

After our failure at the Plains, we used eBird to successfully not find Bobolinks at another spot. While standing around stupidly behind a general store, there were at least a handful of birds around. There was a small roadside pond where swallows and Chimney Swifts were coming to drink, so I tried my hand at getting some swift photos.  It wasn't a total failure.

To be honest, I don't really have good photos of any swift species, this is probably the closest thing.

Giving in to the wind and the fail, we lurked back to our vacay house back on Pine Point.  I decided against a walk on the beach in favor of a shower, but headed out again upon hearing of more Roseate Terns and the return of the Little Gull's Bonaparte's Gull flock on the beach as the tide began to fall. What did Maynerayge Day 3.5 hold?  Birds more interesting than Yellow Warblers and Tree Swallows, that is for damn sure.

Rock Well To Tell The Spell

Red-faced Cormorants rule the cliffs from their corma-eyries. Truly a gem amongst the non-waterproofed ones.

When dispensing indispensable pieces of wisdom and advice, as I'm prone to do, I frequently finish my advice with the flourish of, "I am a scientist, after all", to add that extra sense of professional credibility.

Which is true.  I am a (currently unemployed) scientist.  It's what I do.  In fact, I science really hard.  Yeah.  I just used it as a verb, and I'm not sorry about it.

Harlequin Ducks and Common Eiders lurk in nearshore waters throughout the Aleutian Islands.  

Most people can respect that.  But, as so many people at each end of the sociopolitical spectrum have pointed out, scientists are TERRIBLE at communicating their knowledge and discoveries to the general public.  Evangelical Christians will tell you this.  Heretic scientists will tell you this.  And, more importantly, I will tell you this.

Ostensibly, one might say that there are many reasons for this distant gap in dialogue.  You could claim that there is no real mechanism in place to give people up-to-date information about some of the big picture things.  You could claim that scientists don't put enough effort into making their research not only available to the public, but easily comprehensible.  You could claim the Right-Wing media purposefully vilifies science, or at the very least filters it to their liking.  And you would be right on all accounts.

Love the kittiwakes.

But there is one true reason at the root of this thing, which is.......scientists are nerds.  

Which should not be news to anyone.  Imagine, for a moment, that we scientists did not get into our respective fields partially (or in some cases, entirely) as a result of our pathetically underdeveloped social skills.  That we could get along with people just as well as animals, microbes, photons, or what have you.  Imagine that we were actually known to be The Great Communicators of our time.....I think the ideological and political landscape would be a bit different (feel free to interpret that to mean "better"). 

Are there exceptions to the rule?  Of course.  But who cares???  The main thrust of this thing is that the next time you meet some self-sequestered, xenophobic, coffee-avoiding, granola-snorting, croc-wearing obnoxious quasihippiebiologist who is incapable of carrying on a conversation with someone outside his/her field......well.......you can do what you think is best.

Aleutian Cackling Geese are one of the few species that have made a strong recovery thanks to the Endangered Species Act.  Common on Buldir, they are also very annoying.