Friday, February 26, 2010
My last Texas birding weekend
Anyway, it's my last weekend here in Texas before I leave Tuesday for Pennsylvania, so sister Mary is coming down and we're going to bird some places in the San Antonio area, hoping to see what would be a really early-returning Golden-cheeked Warbler. I don't want to leave here without seeing one, but then again, I won't put off my trip to wait for one either. It's tough, but I'm ready to get back to Penna and see my gal AB again.
I'm hoping to go to a few different places, take advantage of the spring-like weather we've been having, and catch some early migrants. The local birds have been singing and winging their little hearts out, and it seems like spring is already coming to South Texas. Let's hope we see a few cool species.
As always, I'll bring along the camera and get snaps of whatever cool birds we see.
Monday, February 15, 2010
A hike in Government Canyon
Probably the coolest thing that happened all day was when I suggested to Lil that maybe we should pish to attract some birds. She began pishing softly, and wouldn't you know, a little House Wren, an Orange-crowned Warbler, and a Ruby-crowned Kinglet all showed up? I was so proud of her budding abilities as a birder!
Tuesday, February 09, 2010
Introspective retrospective
I flipped through old pictures from the Marsh House: my garden, the marsh itself, the mountains on the edge of Penns Valley, birds at my feeder. I began to get really sad; I started to feel like maybe it was dumb to go back to those days, or even want to go back to those days. They were hard days sometimes! And I just wanted to leave there!
But then I began to think about it in a different way: those pictures from back then had a certain magic for me.
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The marsh had magic (along with a lot of purple loosestrife).
Remember Kline Road?
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Even my garden.
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Upon further reflection, though, I began to feel it was a good thing that I was going back into those old photos, old posts. It reminded me of how beautiful it is in Pennsylvania and how much I loved being outside in that magical crystal-clear air. By the end of my time in PA, I had pretty much soured on the place; I was so ready to move to California. After everything that had happened with my relationship and my life, my crappy mood led me to feel like I just needed to be elsewhere, like I didn't belong there because I'd only gone there because of Kat.
But now, looking back after everything else that's happened, after I've gotten way way way more changes of scenery than I'd ever wanted in my whole life ever!, I feel like I can look at Central PA with fresh eyes. California was incredible.
Maybe it's the lack of pines to keep the place green.
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Maybe it's how everything here is so spiny and prickly and poisonous and shrivelled and thirsty-looking.
Maybe it's the lack of snow to turn a country road into a study in blues.
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I've found no cool shady green spot under a canopy of dancing maple leaves
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I've seen no tufts of fog clinging to the mountainsides, catching the rising sun's rays and and looking like pink and orange cotton candy.
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YES, I remember the snow shoveling. I remember being so cold that I just didn't want to move. I remember walking in the dirty slush on the sidewalks, my jeans getting all wet and heavy. I remember the lack of Mexican food!
Besides, without snow, would this picture be as cool?
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But I also remember the cool spring and summer nights, filled with the ringing cries of peepers, the low twangs of bullfrogs, and the persistent oh-ka-lees of the Red-winged Blackbirds.
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Yup, I think my little emotional trip down Memory Lane was a good idea. It made getting back to work a little difficult, as it was hard to focus on debit cards and duplicate charges and customer documents and such. But I think it was a good idea to remember how much fun I've had keeping this blog.
And maybe the next time I live in Pennsylvania, which might be sooner rather than later, I will remember that even if it's cold and hard and shovely, it's also magical and green and birdy.
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Note: all these pictures originally appeared on this blog in previous posts.
Saturday, February 06, 2010
Final thoughts on the Rio Grande Valley trip
Who would've thought you could go, fifteen years later, to the very place you grew up and see an entirely different place? I finally got to see the Rio Grande Valley last weekend not as a kid bored out of her mind and thinking she lived on an earthly Tattoine, but as a birder, grown up and in love with nature. I loved the outdoors as a kid, but I was somehow harder then; I never thought of nature as something we could or would destroy. Cities were where everything happened, or so I thought, and all I wanted to do was get out of the Valley and see the world. My childhood playing with frogs and toads, getting bitten by a lizard, being chased and scared by an owl--I figured when I grew up I would live in a big city and go shopping and work and just buy stuff like grownups did. It never entered my mind that I could grow old and learn to appreciate nature in a completely different way, not as just a place to play but as a classroom, a sanctuary, a church.
Being back in the Valley was fascinating; much had changed, but much remained the same. People still had shack-like houses along the highway with "yards" full of junk, there was still too much emphasis on development and "progress," and there were not nearly enough young people out there enjoying the natural world. I guess they were all in the malls and outlet shops. We didn't see one child in any of those birding areas, not one. There was a group of late teens taking a guided walk at SANWR, and a couple of giggly teen girls at Estero Llano, but they were barely engaged in the beauty around them. Like a typical oldster, I wanted to grab them by the shoulders and say, "Appreciate this! Believe me, you'll want to remember it for the rest of your life!" But they continued on their way and so did we.
Right after that, we saw and heard that Swainson's Hawk. What a moment it was, standing there listening to the Birdjam, both of us smiling from ear to ear when we heard that call, and we knew.
Friday, February 05, 2010
Mary the bird photographer/videographer
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We also saw what I'm guessing is a very wind-blown Red-tailed Hawk:
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We also saw, near the Santa Ana NWP, what I think was a Gray Hawk--it was certainly unlike anything I'd seen before: so light-colored, a light gray all over, with a black tail. They call the Northern Harrier "the gray ghost," but if I really did see a Gray Hawk (which I'm 99.99% sure I did), THAT raptor is the true gray ghost. Amazing bird.
And check this out!
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Meanwhile, back to the Valley for more of Mary's coverage of the weekend:
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And look, sparrow enthusiasts:
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And you want whistling ducks?
And here, finally, is the Great Egret fishing video! This is awesome:
Thursday, February 04, 2010
Rio Grande Valley, Birding Day 2--finally!--Report 1
Oh, I'm sorry--was that indiscreet? Oh well. Let that be a warning to you.
Moving on. So Day 2 started out sunny and cold, and we drove the short distance to SANWR. We were just parking when I saw and heard Green Jays! Once again, a lifer as the first bird in the place! Of course, I had also spilled my coffee all over Mary's lap when I made the turn onto the road, so she missed the Green Jays while she changed in the car... oops.
Still, right when you get to the main entrance, there's a feeder. That day, there were Green Jays and Red-winged Blackbirds going nutty on suet and birdseed:
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There's no difficulty IDing a Green Jay, that's for sure! Lifer #1 for the day!
We then took the Pintail Lake trail to the left. I heard very little birdsong, so I tried pishing to see if I could get some response. Here's what responded:
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We heard so many other birds, man--pishing is AWESOME. I'm amazed at how many different birds respond to it. I am thinking of getting that Pete Dunne book/CD on pishing to improve my technique!
We moved on toward the lake and saw Lifer #3 for the day, Black-bellied Whistling Ducks! And not just one, like with the Fulvous; oh no:
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We worked the grassy areas around the lake, and Mary thought she saw a greenish-olive flash going into the grass/reeds, but we couldn't pish him out. Olive Sparrow? Perhaps. But we headed on, and we saw the woodpecker I'd wanted to see!
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We heard a bubbly call near the Ladder-backed, and I saw what I ID'd as a House Wren. Just then, a guide walked by with a small group; he asked if we'd seen the Sedge Wren. I freaked for a minute but said, "no, I think it's a House Wren." Sure enough--House Wren. We never saw another wren that day, but some others did. That would've been a prize!
He told us to head for a spot back behind the lake to find Ringed and Green Kingfishers, so we headed that way. Along the path, look who showed up:
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So we were in the general area that we were supposed to see to get the kingfishers, and we did keep hearing them, but we never saw any. I'd seen one on the road, perched on a wire near Laguna Vista, but Mary'd missed it. We never saw any here though. That's when we heard it: the high-pitched cry of a raptor. I expressed some surprise to Mary because I've never actually heard a raptor cry while flying, and I ran to a clearing to look up, just in time to see a buteo shape and a red breast and then lighter red on the belly. He called probably 7-8 times, thrilling us to the bone, with his high-pitched singular cry that kinda faded down a little at the end. He then disappeared, flying off toward Mexico. I probably saw him for a total of two seconds. So I pulled out my BirdJam (thanks, Jay!) and listened to each hawk sound:
Hawk, Broad-winged: nope, too shrill and it doesn't go down at the end.
Hawk, Cooper's: definitely not. These guys sound like a weird duck!
Hawk, Ferruginous: close, but not it. Not long enough, too shrill.
Hawk, Red-shouldered: this was a singular scream, with several seconds between each.
Hawk, Red-tailed: nope. Too shrill at the beginning, and just not IT.
Hawk, Sharp-shinned: like a raptor-chicken. Nope.
Hawk, Swainson's: HOLY CRAP. This was it. Mary and I simultaneously knew. We'd heard, and I'd seen, a Swainson's Hawk. There was no mistaking the cry; this was it. Besides, I'd seen it on every checklist for the Lower Rio Grande Valley, so I figured, "gotcha!"
Later on, though, Mary met up with that guide in the gift shop and mentioned the Swainson's. He wigged and started asking questions. I came over and answered as honestly as I could about my level of experience, my BirdJam, my quick sighting, everything. He told us that it would've been a rare sight at that time to see a Swainson's; they migrate over, but it wasn't the right time, and no one else had reported seeing one. He apparently enters the eBird reports for the place, so I kinda messed with his idea of what was possible that day. I understood his reasoning about not putting it on any of the reports; I mean, I'm one birder, and I'm no raptor expert (Susan, if only you'd been there!), but Mary and I both knew we'd heard the Swainson's. And that's all I could tell him, was that we were both 100% sure we'd heard it, and I was about 90% sure of the sighting when I looked at his field guide. I know what I saw; I just wish I'd moved fast enough for a photo. Still--I feel extremely strong about the Swainson's. He must've been migrating early or something. It was weird, feeling like I had to justify the sighting, talking to someone about my "experience level" and what I saw and exactly where I was and all that. It was kinda pressure-y! I just wish I'd had a photo for the guy to see. Oh well. I just feel like I know what I saw and heard!
After that, we didn't see many lifers; it turned colder and wetter, and we got hungry. A quick montage:
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You know, I could've sworn I got a picture of the next lifer, a Long-billed Thrasher that we'd heard was in a particular spot, but I can't find the pic. Dangit! His bill was really long, but he kinda looked like a Brown Thrasher only not, somehow. Some birder I am!
Near the exit from the park, drizzle falling and gray cloud cover making shutter speed too slow, we saw him: An Olive Sparrow! It's hard to see the olive-green here, but check the tail--it's pretty easy to see there. What a crazy little bird; he was almost at our feet, flitting around on the ground. Then he was gone.
By this time, it was getting late in the afternoon and the sun was completely obscured by a thick cloud cover. We headed for home, full of birds and photos and videos, and feeling like we'd been through a great if hard trip together, me and Young Mary.
Next post: raptor road!
Wednesday, February 03, 2010
UPDATED! Rio Grande Valley, Birding Day 1, Report 3: Sparrow School!
I don't know if I've mentioned it, but for a while during my time at the Marsh House, I got really into sparrows. I was reading Mike McDowell's blog on a daily basis, soaking up every bit of knowledge I could on the various sparrows I saw on the marsh and at my feeders. I racked up a pretty impressive yardlist of sparrows, with Chipping, Field, White-crowned, White-throated, Swamp, Fox, Song, and American Tree sparrows all making regular appearances.
It's been a while since I was studying sparrows intensively, however, as it's been a while since I left the Marsh House. Besides, I'm now waaaaay farther south than Pennsylvania, so some of those sparrows that were so familiar to me up there don't even come down this far (I'm talking to you, Fox and Tree sparrows). So I'm hoping you'll all help me out with this new crop of sparrows, all seen at Estero Llano Grande State Park. I'll just put up the photos and my best guesses, and you guys can just set me right with your bird-braininess. (I meant that as a compliment!)
First, I'll list the species that can be found in the RGV at this time of year; no sense talking myself into thinking I'm seeing a Baird's Sparrow or something when they don't even come down here. I'm at least realistic enough to check the range maps first! This list was compiled from RTP's Field Guide to the Birds of Texas and the National Geographic Field Guide to the Birds of North America (which I really like because it has the range maps right next to the descriptions and illustrations of the birds). Here's our list of choices:
Field
Cassin's
Chipping
Clay-colored
Lark
Grasshopper
Nelson's Sharp-tailed
Seaside (we were about five miles north of the Rio Grande River and about thirty miles inland)
Savannah
Lincoln's
Song (though this is too far south, according to Ntl Geo guide)
Swamp
Vesper
White-throated
White-crowned
Here we go!
1. Please just tell me these aren't female Red-winged Blackbirds. I thought so at first, but these birds looked too dark to me.UPDATE: They are indeed lady RWBL. I should've gone with the first instinct instead of trying to overthink it.
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On the chance that you'll see more than I did in the "group" photos I took of these birds, here's an uncropped shot to make huge and look at (because I know you've got nothing better to do than geek out over sparrows!)--
Are these just lady RWBL or what? I've seen those before, but these looked different somehow. Now I'm starting to think I'm a fool. I know what the problem is, though: I saw the list the rangers were keeping at the first big observation deck; they had Lincoln's, Savannah, Swamp, and even American Pipits--you name it. Now I'm trying to make every brown streaky bird into something exotic!
The first step is admitting you have a problem.
2. Moving on! UPDATE! Song Sparrow!
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3. Look at this little bird:
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UPDATE--Savannah Sparrow--John pointed out the pink bill and short tail. Nice! I'd heard them before and seen them from a distance, but now I feel like I'll know them right off. I hope.
I know you're saying, "didn't you get a picture of his back?" Yes, I did!
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4. The one with the long flat forehead:
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5. Finally, what I thought was a sparrow but is a Yellow-rumped Warbler, I think:
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I sure hope you sparrow buffs show me some love and help me with these. At this point, I don't even want them for the lifelist--if I can't ID them with surety even after staring at their photos, I don't feel like they belong on the list. I learned a lot about shorebirds by studying photos and noticing general types and shapes. Sparrows just seem to defeat me sometimes. I like the easy ones--Fox, Field ID'd by his call, Chipping, Tree -- those are gimmes. Too many times I've stared at the same streaky-breasted head-stripy birds and been lost.
I know some people are "naturals" at remembering bird songs or field marks. I have trouble remembering my phone number. I may not be a natural, and my list may be meager after four years of effort--but, as they say, it is what it is. I am what a am: a beginning birder.