A Warbler of Unrivaled Facemelt...Imvireoation...An Unabominable Oriole

Blackburnian Warbler resides in a league of it's own. It's particular brand of facemelt is unrivaled by any other bird on the continent, and that includes all the fancy tropical stuff. It borrows the colors of the classic oriole palate (orange, black, white) and mixes them with brilliance. It is a bird of Great Success.

Hi birders. Welcome to summer. Migration in the hemisphere has ground to a standstill, and birds have gotten down to the business of grinding something else...cloacas. How does that grab you?

I haven't seen any migrants oscar mike for quite some time now, and that's ok. South Texas was very rewarding this year. I don't even require a fallout experience to say that. Hell, I didn't even realize how consistently good South Padre Island could be until I got out there for the first time. Anyways, I am grateful for getting the chance to flog the migrant-laden shrubbery so much, and so I offer you another glut of migrants. 

Sadly, I only saw a handful of Blackburnian Warblers this spring, which may not be enough to hold me over for very long. It's an addicting bird.

In contrast, Blue-winged Warblers were much easier to come by. They are fidgety little bastards though...the ratio of Blue-winged Warblers seen to Blue-winged Warblers crushed is heavily skewed toward photographic failure. This bird was a bottlebrush junkie though, and it's nectar-lust quickly overrode any misgivings about having to lurk too closely to a human being. 

I was left rather chuffed in the aftermath of this observation.

Chestnut-sided Warbler anyone? This bird has furnished many cherished memories for me over the years, from Humboldt County's Patrick's Point to the talons of a Pearl Kite on a Costa Rican coast; from the bucolic Berkshires to the migrant traps of South Padre Island. It is the Warbler of Nostalgia.






Only the most anesthetized birder, bloated with hubris, can ignore such a bird...even one in sub-crippling plumage such as this one. 

The very first time I came out to South Padre Island, a blooming bottlebrush was completely surrounded by a phalanx of photogs, who were standing guard around the tree and generally being in everyone's way. The mood of a major twitch was in the air. I thought that there absolutely had to be something facemelty in that tree, or something rare. As you can see, I was wrong. They were in heat over Ruby-throated Hummingbirds...not that there is anything wrong with that, but when I am in heat over Ruby-throated Hummingbirds I prefer to ride it out in privacy.

Ah, the Solitary Vireo. It is a variable bird. Plumbeous and Cassin's get mistaken for each other. So do Cassin's and Blue-headed. This is a dull Blue-headed, which is doing a convincing impersonation (imvireoation?) of a bright Cassin's. How many Cassin's Vireos get passed off as uninspiring Blue-headeds? How many dismal Blue-headeds get passed off as bright Cassin's? It is an ongoing tragedy to be sure.

Here is what a Blue-headed is supposed to look like...allegedly.

Bullock's Oriole is a western species, no doubt. In south Texas, their distribution in the Lower Rio Grande Valley is solidly clinal...the further east you go, the more uncommon they become. In the Falcon Reservoir area they are fairly common, but it's a rare bird on the coast. This female is one of two Bullock's I saw at South Padre Island.

In California, vagrant-hunting birders aren't overly concerned about telling apart female Bullock's from female Baltimore (female/imm. Hooded vs. Orchard is a more frequent dilemma). However, I get the impression that birders in the eastern U.S. seem to struggle with this ID...they get more intermediate-looking Baltimores than we do, I reckon. At any rate, this a typical female Bullock's...a dull, almost lifeless yellow is confined to the upper breast, head and tail, dark "tooth marks" extend into the top of the white wing bars, and relatively pale wings do not contrast sharply with the white wing bar and edgings of flight feathers. For the record, I did see my lifer Bullock's X Baltimore Oriole there this May (an adult male), which was an abomination and not actually very spiffy.

A male Bullock's Oriole, on the other hand, is an unabominable oriole. It's one of those spring arrivals that makes you think, "Shit. I forgot that birds look like this. It's amazing". Shortly afterward, your knees buckle and you collapse to the ground in an awesome agony. Then two weeks later they are practically invisible because you are a jaded birder and cannot appreciate beauty.

Oranges upon brilliant oranges with this bird.

This is the one and only Prothonotary Warbler that I met this spring. She hung around the convention center for quite a while, feasting on oranges with reckless abandon.

Look at the heavy bill of this bird. Compared to the bill of something like a Wilson's Warbler, this thing is like a fucking toucan. Also, the fact that this bird has managed to appear pear-shaped is yet another amazing accomplishment.

Did someone say Wilson's Warbler? Behold one here, in all it's mellow glory. All photos in today's post were taken on South Padre Island, TX.

The Death Of The Mystery Bird

In the age of the internets, birders can communicate and share photographs like never before, which along with digital photography has lead to a dramatic jump in the prevalence of "mystery birds" over the past several years. To label a bird as a mystery bird, of course, is simply just a way of saying you are unable to identify a particular bird. Nowadays, listservs, forums and facebook groups are awash in these things. I do like weighing in on these anonymous birds from time to time, despite the plethora of horrible photographs to wade through. The most infamous realm of the Mystery Bird is the ID-FRONTIERS listserv, which consists of birders willing to slit throats over such fascinating issues as the amount of expected wear on the lesser coverts of a molt-retarded 3rd-cycle Herring X Glaucous-winged Gull hybrid in July (that occurred out of normal range, but not in a completely questionable location)...which is all well and good of course, but I don't always have the stomach for such in-depth and brain-numbing semantics. That's more of The Great Ornithologist Felonious Jive's thing.

Since I am, as you know, our great nation's Number 7 birder, it's not difficult to weigh in on the mystery birds that surface here and there throughout the internets. It's fun to debate birds, and gives everyone a chance to learn something. BB&B is very pro-birducation of course, so I do my best to keep it real. I do admit to being wrong one (1) time of late, when an outranking birder whose name rhymes with "Benn Baufman" correctly nailed down a sparrow that I could not. All hail!

Over the past few years of checking out these Birds of Mystery, certain patterns begin to emerge that I think are representative of the challenges that birders throughout the U.S. and Canada often face. So, now, I give to you, The Final Guide to Identifying Mystery Birds. Chances are, if you've only been addicted to birds for a few years or less, the fuzzy, blurry, anonymous bird you have a picture of will be pictured or mentioned somewhere in this post. You are welcome.

The bird groups that people seem to struggle with the most are flycatchers, sparrows, buntings, warblers and shorebirds. Surely seabirds and gulls have surely crippled many a birder as well (I'm still working on my degree in International Storm-petrel Studies), but I can't argue with Pure Statistics.

And now...your mystery birds are revealed.

Is your mystery bird yellow? Is it a warbler? Good chance it's a Yellow Warbler. They don't look like this in fall, so don't expect them to. Des Lacs National Wildlife Refuge, ND.

See a weird sparrow? Well...is it a Song Sparrow? Song Sparrows are one of the champion sparrows for confusing people. Like Yellow Warblers, they are more variable than people think, with a staggering 24 subspecies in the U.S. That is more than any other North American bird! Amazingly, 11 of these breed in California, with 4 other subspecies occurring in winter. Point Reyes, CA.

Western Wood-Pewee. People are terrible at identifying flycatchers (I don't blame them), in particular both species of wood-pewee. Lack of eyering and long primaries make it easy though, and the dull wingbars help as well. Advanced birders struggle with vagrant pewees (a Western in Eastern Wood-Pewee range, and vice versa); for silent birds, I see no end in sight to this problem. Fort Rosecrans National Cemetery, San Diego, CA.

Willow Flycatchers are equally notorious for confusing birders, since they resemble both wood-pewees and Alder Flycatchers, and can also be confused for other Empidonax. Some birders are under the false impression that Willows never have eyerings (which they can, particularly in the east), which makes it even messier. But lets face it, this genus stems from its own special circle of Birder Hell. Port Hueneme, CA.

Common Terns seem to be the Most Mysterious Tern. Probably because they can turn up anywhere on the continent, and that they are frustratingly similar to Forster's, Arctic and Roseate Terns. Ormond Beach, Port Hueneme, CA.

Looking at people's "mystery shorebirds", Least Sandpiper wins the award for our Most Mysterious Sandpiper, despite the fact it is our only peep with yellow legs. Being tiny, their name is a good clue as well. Just the other day a local birder reported 4 Sharp-tailed Sandpipers at a marsh...can you guess what they were? San Diego River, San Diego, CA.

Tennessee Warbler. In spring they look like vireos, in fall they can still look like vireos, as well as a number of other warbler species. An understandably confusing bird for fledgling birders. Lostwood National Wildlife Refuge, ND.

Ruby-throated Hummingbird. Despite being practically the only "eastern" hummingbird, they somehow continue to confuse birders within their normal range. A great example is one in Maryland that was recently reported as a Magnificent Hummingbird. We know this to be the case because the photos show a Ruby-throated Hummingbird. Sadly, a number of birders attempted to chase this staggering rarity in vain. Chavarrillo, Veracruz, Mexico.

Savannah Sparrow ("Belding's" subspecies pictured). Savannah Sparrows are hard for people to come to terms with, but with a massive range and a number of different and probably incorrectly described subspecies, this is understandable. Streaky sparrow give you brain freeze? Think about these duders, whether in a coastal marsh or open grasslands...yellow lores are a giveaway. Imperial Beach, CA.

Chipping Sparrows. People recognize them in their summer duds, but not as a grotesque juvenile or basic-plumaged bird. Juvenile Spizella can be nightmarish to identify for many a birder, but Chipping is (arguably) the easiest to identify in this streaky state. Point Reyes, CA.

Common Yellowthroat, by my calculations, is the Most Common Mystery Bird Of All Time. Female, juvenile, and hatch year birds of both sexes get misidentified for all sorts of other warblers. And yes, despite the tens of thousands I have seen by now, I still don't have a good photo of one...how embarrassing! Tijuana River Valley, CA.

Are none of these species your mystery bird? Are you sure? Well, it seems that Magnolia Warbler, Indigo Bunting, Swainson's Thrush, Western and Baird's Sandpipers, juvenile Verdin and Brown-headed Cowbird all turn up frequently as mystery birds. You should consider them in your quest for The Final ID.

I should remind birders to use their field guides to their fullest...i.e. don't just look at the pictures, read the text and range maps. It's good stuff, I swear. That makes all of this a lot easier.

There you go. Case closed. No more mystery birds, ever again. Rejoice, and bask in wisdom and knowledge!