Blazing a Fiery Trail of County Birds

As the sun sets on this Short-eared Owl (COUNTY BIRD!), so too does it set on another summer of relative birding slumber. For the rest of the year, the birding in Santa Clara should be quite good, and I hope to see more pleasant county birds like this one. Photographed at Coyote Valley Open Space Preserve.

September. Sweet, sweet September, how I've missed you. BB&B sings the praises of September each and ever year, and as long as my heart beats and about half my brain works, I will continue to do so. September just doesn't get old. In just a few short weeks, the state of local birding has gone from the hot, grim dirge of summer to that special time of year where anything can happen. September is gripping. We are no longer looking at a dim and distant light at the end of the tunnel, we are basking in the light of full bore fall migration. That holds true even here in humble Santa Clara County, where finding eastern-flavored rarities is a back-breaking (but not impossible!) task compared to the coastal counties.

I think I've said it before, but when I first moved to San Jose my main coping mechanism to unexpectedly find myself living here was getting really into birding Santa Clara County. Not obsessively, but semi-devotedly. Now, about 16 months in, I feel like I have a grasp of birding here. I know what my easiest needs are without consulting eBird, I have an inkling of where to be looking for what, and I'm very interested in checking out all the birding sites I haven't been able to visit yet.

Here are a few observations I've made about the birding here in general:

*There are lots of birders here, but not many regional or state rarities. Yup, there you have it. Since moving here, the only review bird I've seen was Will Brooks' Little Stint in August of 2017...that is over a year ago. The only other review species seen here since then that I am recalling was a Slaty-backed Gull in March, which I dipped on. Where are the vagues?

*Well I know where some of them are...they are probably flying right over my house. There are huge numbers of gulls in the county in winter, and thousands (mainly Herring, California, Glaucous-winged and Iceland) may go right over Rancho de Bastardos on some days. I suspect Slaty-backed Gull may actually be an annual bird here that just goes unseen or unidentified. There is high potential for other rare Larids, I reckon, review species and otherwise.

*Shorebirding in Santa Clara is simultaneously great and frustrating. We have numerous salt ponds but very limited access to tidal mudflats, despite being right on San Francisco Bay. This results in the weird scenario of me having seen 2 Little Stints in the county and just 1 Sanderling. Rockpipers stay further north in the bay, and we don't have any good grasspiper or Pluvialis spots. However, Santa Clara could easily be where California's next greenshank, redshank, Curlew Sandpiper, etc. shows up.

*Speaking of said salt ponds, I want to start biking around them...that way I could really cover some ground, see some shit, get to places I wouldn't normally be able to get to. The salt ponds cover a vast area and there is a lot of public access - I suppose that means I should get a bike. Or someone could get me vehicular access out there to do some shorebird surveys or something. Any takers? I am the #7 birder in the United States...and a biologist.

*Santa Clara has a number of species that other bay area counties lack or scarcely have, such as Swainson's Hawk, Black-chinned Hummingbird, Pileated Woodpecker, Yellow-billed Magpie, Canyon Wren (above, belting out its heartmelting song at Coyote Dam), Bell's and Black-chinned Sparrows and Lawrence's Goldfinches to name just a few. Although vagrants may be tough here, there is quite a good diversity of upland species overall.

*Alviso Marina may be one of the most reliable places for Black Rail in the entire country. After being relegated to the "heard only" list for years, I finally saw a Black Rail! I took a picture of a Black Rail! I have done the impossible! This wasn't a county bird like everything else photographed in this post, but who gives a shit? It's a BLACK RAIL.

So how have I done with the county birds this year? I started 2018 with 220 species in Santa Clara County. As of this writing, I've got 244 according to what eBird tracks. It ain't nothing to brag about, but I'm pleased with my progress. 250 is in my sights, a number which I see as evidence of established residency in Santa Clara County. And with fall migration now peaking for another month or so, it's possible I could get there before 2019, a year shaping up to be filled with mystery and intrigue. Since so much of my birding in the this year has not come up in BB&B, why don't we revisit some of these county birds?

Look at this COUNTY BIRD. It's not just any county bird, it's a Pileated Woodpecker, and this one gave the best looks I've had of one in my whole stupid life. I have no idea how long I stood there staring at it like an idiot. I couldn't believe my luck. It gave neither two shits, nor a fuck, about my presence. I stood as close to it as the intervening terrain and vegetation would allow. It was so engrossed in digging into this tree trunk that it wouldn't even look at me...probably because I looked like a total wanker just standing there with jaw agape. Photographed at Sanborn County Park.

With a bit of eBird sleuthing, I was able to figure out where to find a day-roosting Western Screech-Owl! I love it when piecing vague details from eBird comes together to coalesce into a COUNTY BIRD! This is only the second WESO I've been able to have truly leisurely looks at, and it was as invigorating as you would expect. There is something about the patterning on screech-owls that I find mesmerizing...fuck mossy oak, camo makers should be putting out screech-owl.

Willow Flycatchers pass through the bay area in appreciable numbers in fall. Rare breeders in California, I presume these birds are mostly coming from breeding grounds in British Columbia, Washington and Oregon, but perhaps they include individuals from further east as well. For most species, we really don't know shit about migration, do we? Anyhoo I am grateful for the existence of Willow Flycatchers because they are easy to identify compared to other western Empids, unless you are trying to turn one into an Alder, in which case you are fucked. This was not only a COUNTY BIRD, but a satisfying addition to the 5MR ledger as well.

Hermit Warbler was a recent COUNTY BIRD, the last holdout of the west coast warblers. The autumnal diaspora of Hermits mostly occurs in August and September...hopefully this won't be my last of the year. This one was at Ulistac Natural Area, which seems to be the premiere (publicly accessible) migrant trap in the county. Fingers crossed this won't be the last new warbler I see in Santa Clara this fall. That would suck.

One of the best birds seen in Santa Clara in 2018 was the Anderson Lake Zone-tailed Hawk. I didn't see it. In fact, I didn't even bother looking for it, and saved myself many hours of fruitlessly standing around a parking lot in the process (most birders dipped on it). Why? My best self-found bird in the county since moving here was an immature Zone-tailed Hawk last November on Laguna Road in Coyote Valley. It is the second county record in eBird, and first photographed. Here is a classic crappy photo. COUNTY BIRD! And the first I've had the pleasure of seeing north of Santa Barbara, it is a solid rarity north of there.

Whether you give a damn about getting county birds or not, I hope you all have a good September. Bay area birders, please find something like Eastern Yellow Wagtail, Gray-cheeked Thrush or Cerulean Warbler. Those would be STATE birds...

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!

Winter Mexican Tour Y2K16, Day 5: Ant Swarm!

Just on the south slope of Cerro San Juan, the nerds walked up a side road to see what they could find. Quickly, they hit a solid mixed flock. Hermit Warblers were very confiding and a nice trip bird; bizarrely, this was a life bird for Stilt, which enraged Dipper Dan. We all still wonder how she could have waited so long to see one; she wept openly and without remorse (a history she will no doubt attempt to revise), while Dipper Dan screamed at her in anger. Flycatcher Jen said nothing, plotting her next move to draw more attention to herself. Don Francisco contemplated all the money he was not spending by being in the middle of a Mexican forest. I, the birder philosopher-king, passed judgement on all of them, bitterly telling them they were doing it wrong.

The birds in this flock were unusually confiding. They wouldn't leave; it was a sedentary flock...the kind of flock dreams are made of. This Hammond's Flycatcher anchored it from a fenceline.

Finally, the five gringo idiots realized why the flock wasn't going anywhere...it was sitting on top of an army ant swarm! Massive columns of ants marched across the road, while the birds lurked just overhead, ready to grab insects flushed by the deadly swarm. This heavily-armed caterpillar was found in the midst of the ants, not giving a fuck. It's long, protective hairs repelled ant attacks with great efficiency; it was an unusual addition to one of the ant formations it had become swept up with.

Hepatic Tanagers were quite common during out trip, and were particularly keen on taking advantage of the ant swarm.

Can a bird be both red and subdued? Let this question cause you pain and heartache no more, for the answer is a male Hepatic Tanager.

Confiding bird. I think I like Hepatic Tanagers more now.

The star of the flock was this crippling male Flame-colored Tanager; this species never ceases to melt face.

Different members of the flock would often line up on barbed wire fences, as the ants would travel directly beneath them. This led to a number of amusing combinations of birds sitting in close proximity to each other. Here is the Flame-colored and the female Hepatic.

Painted Redstart (Whitestart) and pineish flycatcher.

A couple Ivory-billed Woodcreepers added a bit of tropical flavor to the flock, which otherwise contained a lot of species that make it to southeast Arizona.

Finally we left the ants and headed downhill in search of new, non-sedentary flocks and other birds. This Blue-throated Hummingbird was the first of the trip.

White-throated Thrushes were encountered on the regular; at least they are more interesting to look at than Clay-colored Thrushes.

Red-headed Tanager was the final group lifer of the day; we found a flock eating coffee berries right next to the road on the way down the road. Crippling little bastards. Getting these birds this afternoon turned out to be critical, because we didn't see any for the rest of the trip!

Pine Flycatchers turned out to be pretty common in higher elevations during this trip. How do I know this? Empids in Mexico are bizarrely cooperative.

Here is a female Mexican Woodnymph; we found this highly range-restricted species in multiple locations. Too bad that luck didn't carry over into many other species of hummingbirds.

Cerro San Juan was fantastic birding; if you are so inclined, our eBird checklist is right here.

Blinded By Dacnis* And Deafened By Bellbirds

Black Phoebe, Guardian Flycatcher of Rory Jo.

Good news today birders...I have managed to cobble together a plan to compete with Bostick in our 2012 big year competition.. He is almost 40 species ahead of me at the moment, and having fallen behind so much I had only one choice to make...I bought a plane ticket to Costa Rica. Then, and only then, can I cram in enough species to attain ultimate glory. Our respective year lists are not bound by the arcane/prehistoric/arbitrary boundaries of the ABA Area, so anything is fair game. I won't be going until the day after Christmas, and the birding will be thick...considering I haven't birded south of Mexico's Veracruz State, this 3 week stint in Costa Rica will likely leave me without any semblance of a face, for it all will have melted off within 24 hours of touching down. The combinations of yellows, reds, greens and blues of the tropical birds I lay eyes will leave me featureless. Friends will no longer recognize me and, after learning the horrible truth, will compare me to that poor lady who had her face ripped off by a disgruntled chimpanzee. This is the price we pay for birding....or the one I will pay, at least.

I've had pretty poor luck with getting Cooper's Hawk pictures...this adult, for reasons we may never understand, couldn't care less that a couple birders were milling around under it.

Because I have been lucky enough to see a few tropical birds already, there is a slim chance that I will be able to withstand seeing the shimmering tanagers and glimmering hummingbirds (those are descriptions by the way, not actual bird species) without falling into cardiac arrest. However, I have great fear that if I get to see something like a Turquoise Cotinga, Snowcap, Agami Heron or (god forbid) a Resplendant Quetzal, my very existence will probably slip into another dimension entirely, much like what happened to Obi Wan Kenobi after his battle with Darth Vader.

Even if I do survive...I will return spiritually rich, but physically crippled. The Great Ornithologist Felonious Jive may have choice but to put me out of my misery...blinded by dacnis* and deafened by bellbirds, there will be no point in carrying on.

Of course, there is the horrible possibility that Bostick will learn of my plans and simply go everywhere I go. Could he be that sinister? I can imagine laying eyes on a small, wrenthrushian bird for the first time, and I hear "Zeledonia!!!!" in my head....except its NOT in my head, it is Bostick, and he is standing right behind me. That devious bastard! How could he?

Near the bizarrely unconcerned Cooper's Hawk was this bizarrely unconcerned Western Bluebird.

Maybe living in a cemetery makes you considerably less fearful of death and doom.

Aside from Bostick, TPAD Dan and the one who goes by "Stilt" are also planning on meeting me in Costa Rica....I look forward to slaying many a lifer (with my eyes) in their good company.

It is, I think, important to travel...we often cannot put value on things we have not experienced firsthand. Sure your personal carbon footprint gets a lot bigger when you fly, but ecotourism can save habitat, and if enough of us do it that can have all sorts of positive effects on human and avian communities alike. No, you are not saving the world when you go birdwatching...but sometimes it can help.

Until then, I will most likely be spending my time in California, for good or ill. All of today's birds are from Fort Rosecrans National Cemetery, an exceptional birding spot during migration, but just a creepy place to be loitering the rest of the year.

* = How do birders pluralize "Dacnis"? I really don't want to catch myself saying "3 Dacnii just flew into that strangler fig!".

Gravestones make excellent places to mark your territory.

Or to kind of weirdly float around.

Hermit Warbler. Yet another rad bird that I am stuck with mediocre photos of.

Calliope Hummingbird. When birders see one of these, their hearts beat fast enough to pace a hummingbird's. Consequently, most birders have severe heart problems afterward.

Western Wood-Pewee. Dapper.

Chipping Sparrow...this pose makes me think of Charley Harper for some reason. Sorry my captions today are lacking in wit and rambly screeds, but I got stung in the face by a bee and I'm too swollen to be creative. Sorry!

What Have I Done?

Olive-sided Flycatchers win universal praise and admiration from all of the continent's birders. A high-elevation alcoholic, I have always considered their beer-craving cry to be synonomous with thin air and the smell of Ponderosa and Jeffrey Pines. Stonewall Mine, Cuyamaca Rancho State Park, CA.

Indeed...what have I done? It seems that I have locked myself into a terrible big year competition with someone who I feel is best referred to as a Kenny Bostick-type character. What's worse is that we plan on birding a lot of the same areas this year, and he will be making an east coast trip soon...which puts me at a severe disadvantage. While I toil in a tern colony, he will be face-to-face with Atlantic Puffins, Razorbills, and lord-knows what kind of warblers that may make their way to Matinicus Rock.

Win or lose, come January 1....things may never be the same. The stakes have never been higher, and ever since we made The Agreement, I have found myself locked in a constant state of anxiety.

Of course, neither of us plans to travel extensively just for the sole and embarrassing purpose of a Big Year, but it is another thing to motivate us to get out. I'm not really a competitive person, but this seems like fun...my friend "Bostick" is better funded than I for this endeavor, but he is also notoriously cheap. And so, we bird on a level playing field.

Today is my last day off until the 19th, when I will hop on a boat, snort some Bonine and stare at seabirds all day. So far I have decided to regain some of my humanity by sleeping in and cleaning the cabin....so until then my eyeballs will be glued to Snowy Plovers and Least Terns.

Here's a few recent year birds.

Hermit Warblers are plentiful in San Diego County this spring. This comes as a great relief, since they are typically harder to find than their more abundant Townsend's and Black-throated Gray cousins. Like a number of other warblers, Hermits are terribly named...I could get behind something like "Golden-faced Pine Warbler." Any suggestions? Stonewall Mine.

Least Terns are the center of my life now. They are laying eggs like gangbusters, which means a lot of extra work. Bring it on, terns. Tijuana Slough National Wildlife Refuge, CA.

Calliope Hummingbird is another universally adored bird. The smallest hummingbird in the states, it is much sought-after throughout its range by legions of nerds. Yes, this is the same tree that the Prothonotary Warbler was in...it is indeed a magic tree. Fort Rosecrans National Cemetary, San Diego, California.

When "Bostick" visited last weekend, he was exposed to the shock and awe that is San Diego birding, where the birds just don't make sense. He did not understand singing Chipping Sparrows and Dark-eyed Juncos singing right on the coast, not to mention the Yellow-crowned Night-Herons, Little Blue Herons, Gull-billed Terns and multitudes of Red Knots. I don't blame him. Fort Rosecrans National Cemetary.

This will not go down in history as the best Blue Grosbeak photo ever taken, but I think it's funny. This sort of photo is typically reserved for raptors. Tijuana River Valley, CA.