I Got Rails, Rails Around My Feet

The bay area is blessed with numbers of a couple very special rail species - Ridgway's and Black. Luckily, Ridgway's aren't nearly as elusive as Black Rail, which I've still never actually seen (they slip in and out of other dimensions at will, it is known). One day last winter I was out in the saltmarsh during a particularly high tide, and the Ridgway's were forced out of their usual haunts. Several rails had their souls stolen on that fateful day. Corte Madera Marsh, Corte Madera, CA.

Behold the peerless grace and unmatched power of this ultra-efficient flying machine.

Though rails are famously good dispersers and accomplished migrants, this bird did little to convince me it was capable of dispersing more than six feet.  Here it is falling out of the sky. Have some dignity, rail.

Ridgway's Rails aren't afraid to go for a swim...in fact, there is little that they are afraid of. Their courage compensates for their wraithlike, shadow-dwelling Black Rail relatives nicely.

This is a weird juxtaposition. Those are 2 Ridgway's Rails aquatically convening in the foreground, which is an odd thing to see in and of itself. More noticeable is San Quentin Prison in the background, which houses a great many inmates on death row.  It was also the venue for one of my favorite live albums, Johnny Cash's At San Quentin (yes, I do think it is better than At Folsom Prison).

I wasn't at Corte Madera for rails though, what really lured me there was this SONG SPARROW.

Just kidding. I can robin-stroke with the best of them, but even I cannot pass off such bullshit to my treasured readers. I was there for the Nelson's Sparrows, obvi.

Sweet, sweet Nelson's Sparrow. A regular wintering bird in many marshes up and down the state (though you are overdue for another, Humboldt), yet rare enough to cause a lot of birders to chase. I suspect they are also regular winter visitors to parts of Baja, but incredibly this species has yet to be eBirded from anywhere in Mexico.

Who will be the first to eBird a Nelson's from Mexico? They have been recorded in the country, just not eBirded yet.

Nelson's, as anyone who has seen one knows, is one of the best sparrows in existence. They are mild-mannered to a fault, inhabit very interesting habitats, and of course are marked boldly with artisinal streaks and stripes. No one would describe their song as inspirational, but few birds are perfect. A high quality county bird to be sure.

On another day, I met up with Matt Sabatine and had good luck with the Harris's Sparrow that was wintering at the Las Gallinas Ponds. Like the Nelson's Sparrow, the Harris's had some mellowing ochre tones in the face that were hard to resist, not to mention a comforting plumpness.

This Cinnamon Teal would not lift it's head up, even though I hurled numerous rocks at it (like any good photog would). This made Matt very uncomfortable, though I have no idea why. In the end I accidentally crippled it with a piece of cement and all I got was this lousy photo to show for it.

Kidding, kidding...I don't really consider myself a photographer.

Let's wrap up this post with Bufflehead, because Bufflehead.

Outer Point Migrage

By the second weekend of October, the fall of 2016 had already been a good one...year birds in the right year, county birds in the right counties, acceptable numbers of migrants around, a state nemesis had been vanquished (Northern Gannet), I found a solid Siberian vague runt at my patch (Bar-tailed Godwit), and had a Sibe *MEGA* give good looks (Dusky Warbler)...if I had to quit birding right then for the rest of 2016 it would have been a pretty good year...but why the fuck would I do that? So I tried to bird someplace else besides SF or Point Reyes, but all I had to show for it...literally...was this Ridgway's Rail at Arrowhead Marsh. I'll take it.

The day after was forecast for decent weather, so I predictably went back out to the Outer Point...it's hard not to be there in October. As I rode a bristling caffeine high past Drake's Estero, a wall of fog appeared just west of the RCA patch, so I turned around to bird RCA in hopes that the fog would lift in the meantime. Hermit Warbler and Lark Sparrow were nice birds, and a couple ultra-confiding Hutton's Vireos dropped down to forage beside me.

This young male Anna's Hummingbird was holding down a flowering shrub next to my car, so I gave it a quick but punishing crush.

A couple miles down the road I got stuck in a birder traffic jam, but that worked out well because I may have just blown by the flock of 20 Greater White-fronts that were grazing next to the road. It's a nice bird to run into on the coast, as most of the big migrant flocks are just flyovers and don't put down too often.

Much of birding the Outer Point, probably 40%, consists of looking at White-crowned Sparrows and hoping that they are not White-crowned Sparrows. This was just a White-crowned Sparrow, so I crushed it and tried to move on with my life. Crush, move on, crush, get on with it...such is the rhythm of birding some days.

I walked over to one of my favorite micro-spots, where I am guaranteed to see nothing but White-crowned Sparrows, but for once there was something I didn't expect at the Zonotrichia stronghold. Here is a Western Bluebird-Tropical Kingbird combo for Caroline, Frank, and Jen. Dan, this would be for you too, but I know how much you hate combos.

Ah, a nice refreshing Mexican rarity. This was a good sign, but there turned out to be little else at the lighthouse (a few getting-late Violet-green Swallows) and Fish Docks was dead.

Using some of the Global Birder Ranking System's data collection tools (I have access to those, being #7 in the U.S.), it is obvious that there has been a statistically significant uptick in the last couple years of West Coast birders thinking they might have a Couch's Kingbird, not a Tropical. While Constant Vigilance is always good, birders should not let themselves get too worked up...Tropical Kingbirds are an expected fall migrant, albeit not a common one. There is no reason to suspect Couch's unless the bird really sounds or looks like one.

Fun with Tropical Kingbird cropping.

The Fish Docks are haunted by the ghosts of many Vague Runts that have dropped in over the years seeking food and shelter. On this day, migrants were few and rarities only lurked through the cypresses in spirit. A Say's Phoebe ominously watched over the birders making the rounds.

My traditionally horrible luck at Nunes was reversed when some other birders got me on this Black-and-white Warbler. Though Black-and-whites are a low-level rarity in much of the state, on Point Reyes they are seen much less frequently than other "eastern" warblers like Blackpoll, Chestnut-sided, Palm, etc. Considering this was a county bird and a far better looking bird than most other fall migrants, I had a nice mellow birdbuzz going after spending time with this bird.

The real avian highlight of the day though was the Tree Swallows. Yep, I'm going with Tree Swallow as Bird of The Day over Tropical Kingbird and Black-and-white Warbler. By early afternoon there were Tree Swallows pretty much everywhere you looked - while this is normal for some places in the east during fall migration, this is not the case in the bay area...it can be rather difficult to actually get to see a bunch of passerines migrating. Migration (landbirds) is just so much less visible here than on the eastern half of the continent, it's difficult to detect birds coming and going, especially large concentrations of them. I walked around in the middle of a huge feeding flock of swallows at Spaletta Plateau, it was a lot of fun.

One of the reasons I had even been out on the point on this day (aside from the obviously great time of year) was because the winds had been forecast to shift during the morning to the south, and south winds takes rare birds out of the sky and put them on the ground. The Black-and-white Warbler may have dropped in for this very reason. The prevailing winds here are out of the northwest, but for the entire following week we had south winds, and the coast was getting absolutely pummeled with rarities. It was hard to withstand...I was stuck in an office gnawing my lower lip to bloody shreds while rare shit just seemed to be raining down everywhere. Luckily, those south winds also brought some rain at the end of the week, which prevented some of these vague runts from continuing their migrations and allowed me to see a Yellow-green Vireo and Black-throated Blue Warbler out at the Fish Docks the following Saturday. Shit conditions and no photos, but those were some damn good birds. Yellow-green Vireos are not even Bird Police birds in California anymore, but I hadn't seen one anywhere since 2010 so I was stoked. And who knows when I will see those two species in the same place again...talk about a good combo.

South winds...how I long for your gentle, overcast touch. Until next fall.

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!

Apalling Postage Rates...A Detour For Cripple...Confronting and Lurking

That's it. Fall is over. Birds like Prothonotary Warblers are a thing of the past. High vagrant season is dead in much of the country. How was it for you? It was mighty fine for myself, thanks for asking. Sure I couldn't chase the Groove-billed Ani, and no I didn't skip work for the White Wagtail, and yes I hate the Northern Gannet...but at least there wasn't an Olive-backed Pipit taunting me down in Irvine. Lifers were had, a state bird was enjoyed, and rare birds found themselves in my binoculars on the regular.

That all said, I find my frequency/infrequency of blog posts appalling. What I've been doing...it's just not enough. This 40 hour workweek stuff...it's horseshit. Talk about a blogging obstacle. The Perpetual Weekend certainly seems like a thing of the past now...can you believe people actually like doing this prolonged and sustained wage slavery? Sure it can be great if you can get outside enough, but that is not what I'm doing. Anyways, I feel guilty about the blogging apathy so I had to get that out. I guess I just have to relax and think about Prothonotary Warblers.

Prothonotary Warbler is a nice thing to think about, but an even better thing to be looking at. This was an excellent bonus bird. I woke up in Oakland one morning, took BART to San Francisco, looked at a Mourning Warbler, took BART back to Oakland, then drove down to Santa Barbara for the night. This crippler was just a few miles off the freeway in Goleta, and cripple it did. Detours are best when your face is left melted off.

Look. It's devouring something.

One thing that SoCal has that the bay area seems to be lacking in is lerps. Lerps are psyllids that live off Eucalyptus, which is fine because Eucs are not native and lerps attract rare birds. The psyllid nymps excrete this crud that ends up making a white, sugary capsule on a leaf, and insectivores are all about it. Maybe the weather is not lerpy enough up here, or perhaps it's just a matter of time before they arrive in force.

Gulf fritillary is an attractive (bordering facemelting, actually), common butterfly in SoCal; it is one of the first butterflies I learned to identify as a kid. Cool story, I know. Ventura, CA.

Cooper's Hawk is a common bird, but they are much appreciated when they abide. You already know this, of course. Ormond Beach, Oxnard, CA.

Here is a dead Lincoln's Sparrow. The yellow thing on its head is a yellowjacket, which is contentedly eating the sparrows face. The sparrow was out in the middle of a dry pond and looked like it was in good condition aside from the missing head flesh. What is most notable about the mysterious corpse-sparrow is that, about an hour and a half after taking this photo, I SAW A FUCKING DUSKY WARBLER. A Dusky Warbler! So rare! So Siberian! A life bird! I predictably got poor looks, but at least I saw its rare face and got to hear its Vague Runt voice over and over again. There had not been a chaseable one in the state for a number of years, so this was an immensely appreciated new bird for me...a true birder's bird. Redwood Creek, Marin County, CA.

Black-bellied Plover is a not a birder's bird, as they are loud, relatively large, and extremely common. The question is, how come I can never crush them like this when they are in alternate plumage? Do they just know to be more coy when they ditch their dingy winter suit? That's what it seems like. Arrowhead Marsh, Oakland, CA.

This Grasshopper Sparrow surprised me when it hopped up on the paved sidewalk. Hanging out a stone's throw away from San Francisco Bay is not appropriate for a Grasshopper Sparrow, but this was a very inappropriate bird. Photographed at Arrowhead Marsh.

I hella like Grasshopper Sparrows and other grassland birds in general, especially after my time in North Dakota. They really know how to work the Economy of Style visually, if not vocally (see meadowlarks, Sprague's Pipit, Upland Sandpiper, etc.).

As most birders in this half of the state know by now, Arrowhead Marsh is the place to go to see Ridgway's Rail. It's just so...easy. They saturate the place. All the loud, grunting in unison...it's just punishing.

Ridgway's Rails may like to hang in the cover of thick saltmarsh, but when they come out (which they inevitably do) they can be pretty accommodating. Being confronted with Ridway's Rails is a pleasurable experience, considering how endangered this subspecies is and the small range they occupy, which is essentially San Francisco Bay.

Lurking.

Rage, Rage Against The Dying Of The Vagrants

I don't see Long-eared Owls very often, or for very long, so it was great to finally get to spend some quality time with one, even if we were separated by a few sticks.  Birding like this typically doesn't happen in March, and as one might expect this is a bird I met a couple months ago.  Coyote Hills Regional Park, Fremont, CA.

If a birder was out to find the unusual, as birders are apt to do, March is typically not the most rewarding month in California.  It is a month when few birding heroes are made.  It is a somewhat dull span of time in which wintering birds leave, few spring migrants arrive, and rarities are very hard to come by...you know the story.  Lucas at The Birder's Conundrum described the birding situation this month as "March meh-ness", which is apt.

March is the month that California birders often come crashing down from a vagrant high that lasted for months, typically starting with weird shorebirds in July and August, peaking later in fall, and often lasting the entire winter.  The shorebird scene was poor last year, but pelagic trips brought me multiple lifers and fall on the mainland was great.  Northern California had an epic winter for vagrants, with BRAMBRING (you know the story), Rustic Bunting, Falcated Duck and Common Scoter, and out of left field we have been gifted March (!!!) Brown Shrike and Tristram's Storm-Petrel, not to mention the resident not-so-secret Common Black-Hawk and the incredibly persistent Northern Gannet that is still being seen on the Farallon Islands that has been here for years now (I'm going to see it this year, I swear).  Other birds like Slaty-backed Gull, Black Vulture, Crested Caracara and Le Conte's Sparrow were frosting on the vagrant cake for area birders.   

So while I can no longer flog the shrubbery and realistically expect to find a rare bird, I humbly await the flycatchers, vireos, warblers and orioles that will soon be upon us.  It won't be like spring in South Texas, a la 2014, but we all can't have spring in South Texas...at least, not all the time.

This bird was the most confiding owl I've ever seen, of any kind, unfazed by its attendant photographers, hordes of small, horrible children, and wankers blaring shitty music out their smartphones less than 20 feet away. I almost felt bad for the bird, but it had chosen to roost next to one of the busiest places in the park, so I chose not to feel bad for it.

I hadn't seen a Long-eared Owl in a long time, a long time, and I doubt I'll be meeting such a mellow member of its species anytime soon.

Everyone kind of likes harriers...if they weren't all over the place, birders would really like them, but familiarity breeds contempt and whatnot.  I'm always trying to get a decent harrier photo, and this bird actually obliged as the the sun began to set.  Peep those hearts on its flank! Photographed at Coyote Hills. 

Look at that half hawk, half owl face...I'm surprised that's not a more common feature in the raptor world, because harriers seem to have great success with it.  I wonder, to what extent, harriers actually use hearing in their hunting efforts. Are their ears offset at all, like an owl's? Strange ponderings on this March afternoon, before the night's beering begins.

Early this month, after dropping by the Rustic Bunting to say "hi" and get my Vague Runt fix for the day (I am a bird junkie, after all), I spent some hours lurking around the lakes at Golden Gate Park. A confiding Hooded Merganser was one of the highlights, as not only is it a charismatic bird, they're pretty damn hard to get very close to almost everywhere else in the state.  It's not like you can find them grazing on a lawn like a goddamn wigeon or eating wonderbread like a Tufted Duck.

Hoods up!  Check out the raging tertials on this bird.

I may not see another Hooded Merganser for many more months...I'm going to have to live with that. For the time being, my days spent frolicking with small, fish-eating ducks has come to an end.  No more walking around with my head in the clouds, knowing that at any time I could go someplace and see a sort dwarf merganser.  Oh well, at least baseball and Game of Thrones will be starting soon...

Mew Gull is definitely one of those birds we take for granted on the west coast...it's always disconcerting when a visiting birder tells you they are looking for a Mew Gull, but then again it makes sense.  They are only in the Lower 48 in the winter, and only on the west coast.  So for those of you who think that looking at a Mew Gull is a fabulous idea, drink it in.  Photographed at Golden Gate Park.

This bird may soon be nesting in a tree.  Can you imagine that?  A white-headed gull nesting in a tree.  That is what they do, at least sometimes...Mew Gull, just for once...let me look on you in your tree nest with my own eyes.

As long as we are looking at gulls with alluring orbital rings, check this bird out.  We don't get to see Herring Gulls in alternate plumage here on the coast very much, and I was really struck by how colorful this bird's orbital was.  Photographed at Oyster Bay Regional Shoreline, CA.

One's experience with Ridgway's Rails is difficult to predict.  It's easy to find out where they live, but seeing them is another matter...sometimes you would never know they are there, other times you can hear a dozen of them but not see a single one, and occasionally they are just out strolling around in the open with the discretion of a coot in the grips of avian cholera. Photographed at Arrowhead Marsh, Oakland, CA.

Luckily for birders, though they are fond of not being looked at, Ridgway's Rails aren't the wariest of birds and can present quality viewing/photo ops from time to time, showcasing their sturdy pink legs.  And yes, that is an antennae sticking out of the bird's back.

There's nothing quite like the golden hues of a Ridgway's Rail in the afternoon sun. It looks like...home. 

Despite their absurd abundance, I will still look at Black Phoebes and even photograph them. No one, in the scheme of things, is above liking a Black Phoebe.  It is the best phoebe, after all. Photographed in Golden Gate Park.

Fans of YANG MING will appreciate this...just when you think you are going to have a mellow day of kayaking out on the bay, FIRMAMENT ACE comes along to plow you into oblivion.  If you can't see them, the kayakers are on the waterline below where "ment" is painted on the hull. FIRMAMENT ACE was blasting their billion decibel horn at the kayakers to get the fuck out of the way, which probably added to the thrill of almost getting killed by a megaship (or, as they are called in the east bay, a hellaboat) named FIRMAMENT ACE.