Gray Vireo quest

In addition to the title bird (spoiler alert, I saw one!), I finally found some Inca Doves in the neighborhood thanks to Melissa. While we were walking to a cookout at a friend’s place, she stopped to look at an odd White-winged Dove on a wire and then said, “What’s that weird little dove?” And there was an Inca Dove sitting about ten feet away on a stone wall! It soon joined another in a nearby tree. We were both excited; Melissa had been wanting to see one of these cute doves since we moved here last summer.

Inca Dove in Texas. Photo by Franceso Veronesi on Flickr. Used under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

The Gray Vireo may be one of the continent’s most visually boring birds. Out of all the small grayish birds found in the southwest, and there are many, the Gray vireo has to be the drabbest. Bushtits have personality and spunk, not to mention a striking white eye on adult males; Verdins have a bright yellow head; Black-tailed Gnatcatchers flip thier long black and white tails about; Juniper Titmice will scold you and come in for a closer look; Lucy’s Warblers sport a rufous rump. But Gray Vireos are…gray. And in a group kind of known for strong, persistent, if not melodious songs, this vireo’s repertoire contains short, punctuated syllables strung together.

Gray Vireo in New Mexico. Photo by Mark L. Watson on Flickr. Used under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

Gray Vireos can be hard to find. They prefer dry hillsides with scrubby vegetation which provide little shade for birders. The nearest breeding area to Albuquerque is on the Kirtland Air Force base south of the city. The same habitat extends into the northern Manzano mountain foothills which just touch the southeastern corner of the city. Surely the vireos must be on public land as well?

One of the local birders, Dave, found several Gray Vireos a few weeks ago at Manzano open space near the Four Hills area of Albuquerque. I made the trek to look for them a few days later, but I went late in the morning after the temperature had already risen into the 90s. Last weekend, another birder named Jim, found the vireos still there. Rebecca convinced me to make another try–plus I had the GPS coordinates from Dave!

Rebecca, Joe, Sonia, and I headed up into the hills early to beat the heat. We hiked in and arrived at the site around 8 am. No vireos. Plenty of hummingbirds kept us entertains, including one little female or young male Calliope Hummingbird that hovered in front of my face investigating my screech-owl imitation. Black-chinned and Rufous-crowned Sparrows were surprisingly easy to find. I spotted a Virginia’s Warbler–a drab gray bird, save for the yellow on the throat and under the tail. So close. Then a Blue-gray Gnatcatcher. The color scheme matched better, but still not the vireo. The four of us spent about an hour searching and listening intently.

Joe found a small puddle of water on a rock where he had been photographing some bathing towhees. I suggested he play the recording one last time before we hiked out. What a surprise, one answered! It was hard at first to separate it from the louder Crissal Thrasher singing, but the shortened, abrupt vireo cadence was unmistakable. Now the trick would be finding it.Sonia and Joe kept getting glimpses of movement in the general area the song was coming from, but each time we got closer, the bird flew. Other birds tricked us momentarily, but we kept following the bird downhill. After about 50 minutes, we all got some distant views after it decided to land on the outside of a bush for once. Eventually it flew over the Air Force base fence where it decided to stay put, of course. It was a lifer for me! #546 in the US, #299 in New Mexico, and #221 for Bernalillo County.

Other highlights included an immature Cooper’s Hawk circling and intermittently perching near an unhappy flock of Bushtits. As the hawk flew off, a few hummingbirds escorted it away and higher into the air. Joe got an impressive photo of this event.

I found a Great purple hairstreak as well.

A bit greener in the high desert

Late each summer, the southwest anticipates (and sometimes prays for) the monsoon season. While the North American Monsoon is not as strong or as famous as India’s monsoon, the basic weather patterns and physics are the same. As the highlands of western Mexico are heated during the spring and summer, an area of low pressure develops. Dominant wind directions shift so that moist air moves from the Gulf of Mexico and the Gulf of California inland. Once enough moisture builds up in the air and dew points are high enough, afternoon thunderstorms develop.

The monsoon phenomenon is less intense in New Mexico than in Arizona and Mexico because we are further from moisture sources. Over the past few weeks occasional thunderstorms have popped up here and there dumping rain in various parts of the state. With all the water, I wondered what the foothills of the Sandias would look like.

As Melissa and I drove up to Embudito Canyon, we first noticed the green ground cover along the sides of the residential streets. I don’t recall seeing this during my late summer visits to the same areas last year.

We also noticed that a small fire had burned part of the canyon a short way along the trail. Lower parts of cholla were blackened but the area didn’t look too bad. A Scaled Quail thought it did a good job hiding. Maybe before the fire!

Blooming flowers were not very common, despite the rain. I don’t know the usual timing of blooms here, so perhaps it is too late in the summer.

O Valencia (County)

(I’ve been listening to a lot of The Decemberists lately)

Several months ago, I volunteered to lead a shorebird trip for the Central New Mexico Audubon’s Thursday birder outing. Although I am no expert on shorebirds, I find them fascinating–possibly because I saw them so rarely living in central PA for a few years. Melissa’s mom got me the recent photographic shorebird field guide for my birthday and I’ve been studying up on using shape to help identify certain species and how to tell how old an individual is.

My plan was to either go to the local Tramway wetlands or to Belen. Neither are really great places for shorebirds, but you can’t be too picky in Albuquerque. The Tramway wetlands are actually on Sandia Pueblo lands and until I’m sure birding there is cool with the tribe, I’m going to avoid it. The basin there is really overgrown this summer, unlike last summer when it was all one large expansive mud flat. Belen was the better choice for the field trip.

I scouted the Belen marsh last Tuesday. The usual shorebirds were there: Spotted, Solitary, Least, and Western Sandpipers, Long-billed Dowitchers and Wilson’s Phalaropes. Nothing too special, but we could at least focus on identification of common species on Thursday. I also checked Whitfield Wildlife Conservation Area to see if it was worth a stop after the marsh. Few birds were around, but I did find some butterflies, one of which, the Reakirt’s blue, was new for me.

Checkered WhiteWestern pygmy-blueReakirt’s blueMelissa bluesBordered patchSouthwestern Fowler’s toad

On Thursday, we were lucky enough to find a Marbled Godwit at the Belen marsh, standing all by itself next to the Black-necked Stilits and American Avocets. (Joe got a photo of the godwit.) And I’m glad Gary thought to look closer at the two Long-billed Dowitchers on the far side: one of them turned out to be a Stilt Sandpiper. Both were feeding so voraciously that we had a hard time seeing the bill differences. However (and thanks to my shorebird field guide for the tip) we could tell that the Stilt Sandpiper tilted its posterior up higher when it fed due to longer legs and a shorter bill. My poor digiscoped photo may show this:

The Stilt Sandpiper is on the left and the dowitcher is the larger bird on the right. The two smaller sandpipers are Baird’s Sandpipers, though you wouldn’t know it from the photo!

Whitfield was hot and slow. Many of the trip participants slowly trickled back to their cars to head home. The highlight there, though, was an immature female Vermilion Flycatcher, a plumage not often illustrated in field guides. It was plain gray overall with a yellowish wash to the belly and vent. I don’t know if anyone got a photo.

Not too bad a trip! Even though I don’t deserve credit for the godwit, I think that will definitely get me asked back to lead another trip.

Some kind of gossamer-winged butterfly caterpillars feeding on mallow.

Judy also wrote about the trip at her blog.

Oregon trip part 4: birding in the humidity

After my long coast birding trip, I decided to scrap my plans to go into the Cascades and look for birds like White-headed Woodpecker, Sooty, Grouse, and Calliope Hummingbird. Instead, I’d stick around Portland again for the next two days. The weather got a little warmer on Monday and I was wishing I had some shorts.

I found the Vanport wetlands next to a racing track. To visit this spot you need to drive to the race track, turn into an RV sale lot on a large expanse of grass and then park next to a fence with only a small sign about the wetlands letting you know you were at a spot to view nature. The RVs are optional. American Coots were all over the wetlands and each adult seemed to be watching over at least a few juveniles. The youngsters ranged in age from tiny fuzz balls with red down feathers to full size birds in drab gray plumage. Coots are doing well in Portland. Pied-billed Grebes also swam around with young.

Bright male Ruddy Ducks swam through the reeds on the far shore and I spotted a few Redheads as well. The latter species is rare in the area in the summer. A single Yellow-headed Blackbird squeaked from the reeds.

Smith and Bybee Lakes wildlife area was even muggier and most of the trails were flooded due to spring rains in the Columbia and Willamette river basins. Bugs were everywhere, but the area held the Wood Ducks and Yellow Warblers promised by my Portland area bird finding guide. Marsh Wrens gurgled from some of the flooded bushes–don’t they know this is a swamp, not a marsh? At the end of one of the flooded trails, I startled some Great Egrets from their peaceful fish stalking.

A local artist must be into microscopic creatures and fossils. I found more concrete sculptures like the foraminifera we found in downtown Portland.

I then drove to Sauvie Island northwest of the city, located in the middle of the Columbia River. The island seemed to be half forest and half farms, many of the latter offering mid-summer crops like strawberries. I regret not taking more pictures here as it was a gorgeous location. The overcast sky and humid air didn’t help. While driving along one of the farm roads, I was surprised to see a California Quail darting up a dirt pile in a farmyard, thought this was one of the species I hoped for on the island.

Oaks on Oak Island

Farther along the road, I came to Oak Island nature trail on a peninsula between two rather large lakes. The late-day birding was very slow, but I added some nesting Bullock’s Orioles and a large, noisy flock of Bushtits to my trip list.

I get the feeling that this nature trail isn’t the most visited place in the Portland area. There was only one other car in the parking lot and the trail itself (actually a pair of tire tracks through the grass and trees) was overgrown with knee-high grass. I was wearing long pants, but also sandals and I kept imagining ticks and other biting critters crawling up my legs. Thankfully none did. All the interpretive signs along the trail were also grown over by plants and high grass. You can imagine my trepidation when I rounded a turn in the trail and saw a man holding weird poses on a bench in the middle of nowhere. Maybe it was a good spot for meditative yoga?

I cautiously said hello and he replied that he’s just paddled in across the lake in the above photo. “This place is just so beuatiful,” he added. His intensity and earnestness kind of weirded me out. I agreed thinking, yeah, beautiful and isolated. He didn’t seem to be a threat, thankfully, but he certainly was odd. I decided to turn back but he first asked me what I was seeing. “Birds,” I said and pointed out some Cedar Waxwings and Black-headed Grosbeaks feasting on ripe cherries.

“That’s amazaing,” he said and then continued: “Is my red shirt going to scare the birds away?”

Me: “Um…probably not unless you’re waving it around. They seem content to be eating.”

“And what about us talking? Will that scare them away?

Me: “We’re not yelling or talking loudly, so…no.”

“Oh, ok. That’s one of the most amazing things I’ve ever seen. Thank you for showing that to me.”

Me: “Yeah, no problem. Have a good afternoon on the rest of your kayak trip.”

I kept looking behind me as I left just in case. Something was weird about that guy.

That was it for Monday. Tuesday’s weather started to deteriorate and it threatened to rain all morning. The only spot I got to was the Sandy River delta along the Columbia east of the city. This area is a pretty good migrant trap and a reliable spot for summering species more typical of eastern forests such as Eastern Kingbird and Red-eyed Vireo.

The extensive official trail network is confusing enough without all the unofficial tracks through the woods. After a few false starts, I was on my way towards a blind along the river. The fields on the east side held many Willow Flycatchers, Common Yellowthroats, and Lazuli Buntings. The buntings were so close to the trail, I was able to get some decent photos considering the cloudy sky and the camera.

Bonus Cedar Waxwing photo!

Ospreys were nesting on high tension power line towers over a marshy area. The trail skirted the edge of the wetlands and I startled a Virginia Rail that scurried by me only a few feet away.

Soon afterwards, a large, dark flycatcher flew in to perch on some kind of pole in the ground. There was one of the summering Eastern Kingbirds. It flew around me for a while, showing off the distinctive white tail band before disappearing again.

Like Smith lake on Monday, the delta was flooded and I couldn’t make it all the way out to the river. I had to pick my way around standing water and avoided most of the mud. It was starting to sprinkle on and off at this point, but I really didn’t know where I was due to all the unmarked trails. I knew which direction I had to go–the steep walls of the Columbia Gorge are a good landmark! On the way back to the car I heard unhurried but insistent song of a Red-eyed Vireo.

Even though the rain was now coming down harder, I tried to drive up Larch Mountain for some last-minute birding and a chance for some more Cascade mountain birds. The clearcuts I could access were overgrown with thick shrubs and the rain made walking unpleasant. The mountaintop was still closed for the season; the area had apparently gotten a lot of late snow at high elevations. A back road down the mountain that my guidebook promised would take me back to the interstate was closed about halfway down. Near the turnaround, I found this scenic stream.

And that was it for birding in Oregon!

Our host’s cat, Darwin:

Basin and Range topography in Nevada, with salt playas–the white areas which are remnants of larger, ancient lakes. The playas still temporarily fill up with water during heavy rains.

The helpful Las Vegas airport fire brigade, meeting our plane after we were forced to land just minutes into the flight. Something in the air conditioning broke and sent smoke into the cabin. Fun!

Some aerial shots around Albuquerque. The first shows the Jemez Mountains where a massive fire had just started a few days before we came home. The tall clouds may be partly smoke.

Calliope Hummingbird! and NM hummingbird migration

Every year in late summer two species of hummingbirds migrate south through New Mexico and join the common Black-chinned and Broad-tailed Hummingbirds (in the lowlands and mountains respectively). The Broad-taileds also head down slope after they finish breeding at higher elevations. The odd thing is that Rufous and Calliope Hummingbirds don’t migrate north through the state, instead taking a more westerly route through Arizona and California. Late July and August is the time for New Mexican birders to get their chance to see these two distinctive species.

I saw a few Rufous Hummingbirds last summer but kept missing the tiny Calliope Hummingbird, North America’s smallest bird species. I’d never seen one, in fact…until today! I promised myself that this summer I would park myself in front of a feeder at the nature center for as long as it took to see this life bird. I didn’t know it would take all of ten minuets or that I wouldn’t have to sort out a female Calliope from the more numerous female Broad-taileds.

Ta-da!

Melissa and I watched the little guy from about eight feet away or so and got great looks. The raspberry-colored streaks on his throat are individual feathers that stick out a little bit, giving the impression of droplets raining out from the bast of the bill. You can see that better in these photos:

Calliope Hummingbird; photo by oldbilluk from Flickr used under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

Calliope Hummingbird; photo by Len Blumin used under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

In addition the the lovely Calliope Hummingbird (US #545, NM #298, Bernalillo #220), we saw a few each of Broad-tailed and Rufous Hummingbirds, and dozens of Black-chinned Hummingbirds. Other birds were fairly quiet save for a vocal Summer Tanager and Ash-throated Flycatcher. I did notice a few early migrant Chipping Sparrows in the garden.

If you’re in New Mexico, check out those hummingbirds over the next month: you might see four different species.

Oregon trip 3.2: wandering the path of Lewis and Clark

After seeing my lifer puffins (!!), I was hungry. All the restaurants I found in Canon Beach were either too expensive or just bagel sandwiches and I wanted some seafood. Something cheap like good fish and chips, nothing fancy. I checked my “smartphone” (parents at home) who looked up some info and pointed me to a fish shack just north of there in Seaside. I splurged for the salmon fish and chips at Bell Buoy. Everyone I’ve talked to says that was a waste of salmon; maybe it was.

Then it was back to Canon Beach and into Ecola State Park. This park lies on a promontory on the Oregon coast with thick forests and rocky headlands just offshore. The park offers a wonderful view of Haystack Rock and the scenic coastline to the south. Lewis and Clark visited the area in January of 1806 to try and get meat from a beached whale they heard about. By the time they got there, only the skeleton remained and they had to purchase blubber and oil from the local Killamuck tribe.

Thousands of Common Murres floated in the water or covered the tops of nearby rocks. Click on the photo below to enlarge and see the mass of birds in the water to the right of the rocks.

Many of the seabirds at Haystack Rock were at these rocks, not surprisingly, though Pelagic Cormorants were more visible and there were also Pigeon Guillemots making for a three alcid day (and no boat trips needed).

Helpful info from the state park

The scenery was just gorgeous.

This Columbian Ground Squirrel poked its head out of a burrow:

The point had a large stand of horsetails (Equisetum sp.)–in fact horsetails were common many places I visited in Oregon. These were the branch-iest horsetails I’ve ever seen.

The nearby picnic area had its share of both picknicers and the three species of gulls.

Western Gull

Glacous-winged Gull eyeing those coolers!

California Gull

Glacous-winged and Western Gulls, or hybrids of the two

I went off in search of a Wrentit but was again unsuccessful. A flock of roosting Band-tailed Pigeons startled me a bit when they all took off at once.

It was too late in the day to visit any other spots, so I drove to the beach to the north in the park. The waves were quite popular with surfers; they all wore wetsuits. I never ventured into the water at all. A loop trail led through the forest and along the cliffs and I figured this would be my last shot at a Wrentit before the sun went down. But I misread the length of the trail and it turned out to be a two-mile loop up and down a very steep headland. Clark bemoaned their journey to the whale spot as the “the Steepest worst & highest mountain I ever ascended.” I must have traveled the same path they did. The forest was quiet and peaceful, though I half expected Bigfoot to pop out at any moment, especially as it got darker and darker. I wasn’t used to forests getting so dark as the sun went down. Well, I wasn’t really used to forests at all, living in New Mexico! Near the top of the headland I was treated to the beautiful song of a Varied Thrush: very simple but very pretty. The song is a series of single, long notes of different pitches with pauses in between. Each note is flute-like (it is a thrush after all) but kind of buzzy and rich with overtones and harmonics. You can find a recording on this Cornell Lab page but I can’t find any recording that does my memory justice.

The gulls here were also very interested in unattended food and it looked like a fight was going to break out:

The spruce trees along the trail were massive:

Despite all the wonderful Wrentit habitat, it just wasn’t to be that day. That’s how birding goes sometimes–maybe most of the time.

Perfect Wrentit habitat?

It was time to head back to Portland. But I’ll be back. The Pacific coast is just too beautiful to visit only once.

Oregon trip part 3.1: to the Pacific

Sunday was what turned out to be my only major birding trip of my Oregon visit. I’d planned to go further afield on Monday to the Bend area, but the coast trip took a lot out of me.

This post and the next will be very picture-heavy, so apologies in advance!

I’d scoured eBird for the previous week for sightings along the coast as well as along the drive out there. I saw some promising reports of Mountain Quail and Wrentit (some of my wanted species) from clearcuts in the Coast Range. A clearcut near Timber, Oregon (fitting name) turned up a number of species, but neither of my targets. I did near some quail-like sounds from the forest edge, but without knowing whether I could walk past the gate and onto the logged area, they remained mystery sounds. I did see an singing House Wren, a family of Orange-crowned Warblers, a couple of fitz-bewing Willow Flycatchers, and heard more of the hauntingly beautiful Swainson’s Thrushes. I also made a stop at the nearby Reehers CCC camp, though I don’t recall what for. The area was really pretty, with a trail winding down into a river gorge. If I’d had more time, it would have been a nice stroll, but it was already late in the morning and I wanted to get to the coast.

My first destination was Fort Stevens State Park at the extreme northwestern tip of Oregon. I just learned that this area was the only continental military target during World War II. The fort was shelled by Japanese submarines in 1942. There is also an early 20th century shipwreck that I missed. Oh well.

At the south jetty, I got my second-ever view of the Pacific Ocean and the opportunity to see some bird species I hadn’t seen since visits to California and Washington a few years ago when I wasn’t birding as much. The birding here was a little slow; this place fills up with resting gulls, terns, and shorebirds later in the summer. But it was nice to walk on the beach behind the jetty and see the beginnings of some pretty spectacular scenery. In the panoramic photo above, you can make out the rugged coastline to the south.

A few dozen Caspian Terns were loafing on the sand. As I approached, they took off with harsh screaming calls. Had there been nests nearby, they certainly would have attacked me and I didn’t want to receive any blows from there spiky bills. These were probably terns who either didn’t breed this year or whose nests failed for whatever reason. I read on the Oregon bird email list that Bald Eagles and Ospreys had been harassing nearby tern colonies and eating eggs and young. That’s one drawback to the spectacular recovery of these predators. Things will sort themselves out eventually. Two Black Brants that didn’t head north last spring also remained nearby. Offshore, I spotted a couple of lingering Pacific Loons and a Lesser Scaup. Also out of season was a pair of Surf Scotors. More seasonable species were some Brown Peilicans, Brandt’s Cormorants, and three gulls: California, Western, and a single Glaucous-winged. The latter two hybridize extensively in this area, so some of them may not have been fully either species.

I really wanted to see a Wrentit, so I searched some scrubby areas near the point and also around Coffenberry Lake. This spot was supposed to be great for this species. The Wrentits is a confusing species resembling both wrens and tits (or chickadees). It could be a babbler, an old world group or birds, or part of the Old World Warblers (unrelated to the often stunning New World Warblers or wood warblers). Similarity in its habits and morphology to some old world scrub-loving birds may be a case of convergent evolution. Despite all this information, I found none. The sky was getting cloudy and, despite it being 2 PM, the day felt very late. I had puffins to see and couldn’t stay any longer.

Not these puffins! Nice try, hotel, but the Horned Puffin is rare in Oregon and only in Winter!

Haystack Rock is located just offshore from Canon Beach, Oregon. The rock is famous for its small seabird nesting colony, though other offshore rocks host even larger numbers of gulls, cormorants, and alcids (birds like puffins and auklets). The rock is special because it is the closest to shore and gives birders and other wildlife enthusiasts great views of the often hard to see puffins. A spit of sand and rocks connects the beach and rock at low tide and is filled with tidal pools teeming with sea life. (Wikipedia points out that Haystack Rock “is the third-tallest…’intertidal’… structure in the world” but unhelpfully does not indicate what the other two taller ones are.)

The town is jammed with people during the summer and it took me forever to drive through town and then find a parking spot. I had to walk through a hotel parking lot and along a street of beach rentals and could have parked closer. Luck was with me; I arrived very close to low tide, although I did not have the right footwear or pants to wade in the tidal pools. Volunteers spend time near the rock showing curious beachgoers views of bird nests through spotting scopes or telling them about the tidal pool animals.

Many dark birds were flying around the rock with the distinctive wingbeats of alcids. My first puffins…no, these birds were white below and Tufted Puffins are all black. I had forgotten that I might see Common Murres here as well. A surprise life bird! After scanning the steep grassy slope, I spotted a stocky all black bird with a white cheek, yellowish tuft over the eye, and a comically large bright orange bill. Yep, there was the Tufted Puffin! Now and then I saw one fly in large circles near the rock.

A Tufted Puffin. No, really.

Here are some better pictures, courtesy of flickr:

Common Murre photo taken by Alexispz in Alaska used under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

Tufted Puffin photo taken by Francesco Veronesi in Alaska used under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

Common Murre photo taken by Tom Talbott at Haystack Rock, Oregon used under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

Tufted Puffin photo taken by Tom Talbott at Haystack Rock, Oregon used under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

Brandt’s and Pelagic Cormortants had some nests on some smaller nearby rocks:

Most of the nesting birds on Haystack were Western Gulls. One of the volunteers mentioned that a Bald Eagle had been buzzing the rock and scaring all the murres away. This was causing them to keep flying around the rock and not landing. She pointed out a large raft of murres just past the waves–how had I missed them? Rounding out the coastal Pacific rock denizens, a pair of Black Oystercatchers noisily went about their business.

A light sea mist came on the beach and the scene was exactly how you’d envision the beach in the Pacific Northwest: overcast but nice.

Western Gulls were scoping out unattended bags.

The town does have an accurate statute of Tufted Puffins, but it’s too bad it’s not in color.

Aw.

Oregon trip part 2: birds around Portland

On Saturday morning I joined a Portland Audubon bird walk at Powell Butte Nature Park, which as it turned out was not too far away from where Melissa and I were staying. I was excited to meet some local birders and hopefully get some tips on where to find certain species. Unfortunately, I forgot to get batteries for my camera, so this scenic photo will have to do. [Powell Butte with Mount Hood in the background; photo by K. Kendall used under CC BY 2.0]

The target bird species for the trip was Lazuli Buntings, and they did not disappoint. Males were singing all over the place and often chasing others away through the grass. The weather was warm, the sun bright, and I enjoyed seeing many species as I climbed the hill to catch up with the group. A few Anna’s Hummingbirds buzzed around and I soon spotted a few of their relatives and my second lifer of the trip: Vaux’s Swift. This species is very similar to Chimney Swift as you can see below.

Vaux's Swift photo by Dominic Sherony taken in Guatemala used under CC BY-SA 2.0

The birding group was huge: at least thirty people were strung out along the trail when I joined up with them. We watched some Savannah Sparrows sing in the grass and saw one pair copulating. An odd flycatcher song drifted up the slopes which sent the group into a bit of confusion. It took me a while to place it, as it’s one I rarely heard back east. A mild, good-natured debate sprung up about the singer: Olive-sided Flycatcher or Western Wood-Pewee? I knew it was the former, but iPods were brought out and the songs were played for all to hear. I eventually spotted the bird and pointed it out to the group leader who got a scope on it. The large head and robust body did indeed indicate an Olive-sided Flycatcher. I suspect the leader knew as well, but went through the exercise in identification for the benefit of the folks along on the trip.

Further along, we spotted a Red-breasted Sapsucker in a stand of aspens–another lifer for me!

Red-breasted Sapsucker in Oregon. By KaCey97007, used under CC BY-NC 2.0

A freelance writer was also along for the trip and taking notes to write an article for a blog about easily accessible nature excursions across the country. Her article has a few more photos.

I got some batteries and made may way through Portland to the Portland Audubon Sanctuary located in a forested ridge west of the city. Here I found a Red-breasted Sapsucker tending a nest with several noisy babies inside. Many Wilson’s Warblers were singing and I could hear a few Pacific Wrens which stayed well hidden. But I still wanted to see one. Many of the trails at the Audubon center are named after birds, though after not seeing any jays on the Jay Trail and no woodpeckers on the Woodpecker Trail, I didn’t have high hopes for the Wren Trail. I didn’t hear any singing, but some rustling among the ferns eventually revealed a tiny dark brown Pacific Wren! Another lifer!

Pacific Wren photo by Jamie Chaves taken in California used under CC BY-NC 2.0

Pileated Woodpecker holes. Didn't see any of the birds.

Plant or animal?

The forests in Oregon are like nothing I’d ever seen. Ferns were everywhere and the conifers were immense. Photos can’t do the sheer amount of green biomass any justice. Easier to take in were the many wildflowers (identification of which is not my forte, but my mother might be able to tell me what they are!).

[Edit: Flower ID’s from my mom–thanks!]

[Siberian miner’s lettuce Claytonia sibirica, native to Siberia (duh) and western North America. I bet there’s a story behind that name.]

[inside-out flower (Vancouveria hexandra). A very descriptive name!]

[herb-Robert or Robert geranium Geranium robertianum. Also known as death-come-quickly. What is up with plant names?]

[common vetch Vicia sativa]

[scotch broom Cytisus scoparius]

[orange honeysuckle Lonicera ciliosa. The two leaves just below the flowers fuse into a disc.]

[foxglove Digitalis sp.]

[still unknown]

The ridge west of Portland is part of Forest Park, one of the largest urban forest preserves. I checked out a few access points just to do some local birding before meeting Melissa for dinner in the city. Fewer birds were here than at the Audubon sanctuary, but I did see a Barred Owl which may have flown in to my pygmy-owl imitation hoping for a meal. Soon after a Rufous Hummingbird began to harass the owl–those things are bold!

The skies were clear that Saturday and we had unusually good views of Mount Hood and Mount Saint Helens, the nearby stratovolcanos.

Mount Saint Helens, I think.

Mount Hood over Gresham

Next up, my trip to the Pacific!

Oregon trip part 1: waterfalls

In late June, Melissa had a scientific meeting in Portland, Oregon. I tagged along for some beer, birds, and to travel with her!

As we landed in Portland, we were stunned with all the clouds, the greenery, and the water. After a long, dry spring and summer in Albuquerque complete with multiple forest fires, the Pacific Northwest was a nice break. Mount Saint Helens and Mount Rainier (photo at left) poked above the clouds.

We stayed with another UNM student at her mother’s place east of the city in Gresham. The meeting didn’t start until Friday evening, so Melissa and I drove east through the Columbia Rive Gorge to check out a few waterfalls. We stopped at three places: Crown Point overlook, Latourell Falls, and Multnomah Falls. Our rental car was not very nice; don’t ever get a Chevy HHR because the windows are too small and it has weird blind spots.

Crown Point house

Crown Point provides a great view up and down the Columbia River Gorge.

Downriver

Upriver

Melissa and I aren’t ones to stop at every scenic overlook or spot along a drive, but we pulled off at the first waterfalls, Latourell Falls. I think I glimpsed the falls as we drove past and it looked nice.

Recent uplift of the area and erosion by the massive Columbia River have formed the large number of waterfalls along the gorge. At Latourell Falls, you can see a thick basalt flow with hexagonal-shaped structures that formed when the lava cooled and hardened. Few birds were around except the Pacific Wren singling loudly along the stream below the falls. Since this would be a life bird, I wanted to see it before I counted it on my list. We also found a cool millipede.

Multnomah Falls is a very scenic spot and the second-tallest continuous-flowing waterfall in the US. Visitors can view the falls from three spots: at the base, from a bridge between the two portions of the falls, and all the way at the top. Melissa and I made the trek to the top of the falls and it was well worth it. The bridge gets a lot of spray from the tall upper falls and I can imagine it gets very icy in the winter. Unfortunately, we didn’t see and American Dippers, but other birds were around. Oregon Juncos flitted around the visitor center, Ospreys were calling from a nest along the river, and some Wilson’s and Orange-crowned Warblers called from the bushes. We spotted a few Chestnut-backed Chickadees which I haven’t seen since 2006 in Washington. Near the top of the falls, I heard the first of many, many Swainson’s Thrushes that I would encounter on my visit. The best bird, though, was a totally unexpected Hermit Warbler I saw on the way back down. My first lifer of the trip, #539 in the US! I’m glad I did see it, because in the next 4 days in Oregon I didn’t see any others.

Hermit Warbler in coastal Oregon. Photo from flickr from Frode Jacobson. Used under CC BY 2.0

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Even better than any of the birds, though, was a cute pika that crouched on top of a mossy rock in a rock talus slope. These are adorable little mammals. Melissa had never seen one before and was so excited. Other scientists at the mammal meeting were jealous of our sighting. David Attenborough has a great video of pikas frolicking through rocks and gathering hay (at YouTube).

A longer millipede at Multnomah Falls

A view of the whole falls from the top all the way to the river

A huge, gross slug

That evening, we heading into Portland so Melissa and our friend could check-in to the meeting and we found some foraminifera sculptures near the campus.

Misc–ABQ birds 4/27 to 5/30

Taking a quick break from thesis work to post some sightings and photos from the past month and a half.

On April 27th, the day before the Thursday birder birdathon, I hopped over to the Rio Grande Nature Center to see what was around. I don’t remember if I had a specific reason or not. While there, I noticed mixed flock of gulls flying north and then back south, including Ring-billed Gulls and, more exciting, Franklin’s Gulls (Bernalillo species #198). Later, at the Candelaria wetlands, a flock of blackbirds included a few Brewer’s Blackbirds (#199) and I found a single Long-billed Dowitcher feeding in the back with that characteristic sewing-machine movement. #200! No bells or whistles went off–it’s just another bird.

I did get my first photo of a Common/White Checkered-Skipper. Why the slash in the name? These two species are both variable in appearance and can look almost identical; the only way to separate them (at the moment) is dissection of the male genitalia. Genital differences are an important method to determine if two insects are a species or not.

The same day, I stopped by Los Poblanos open space, probably to check for some standing water and any gulls or shorebirds or egrets. None of those but I quickly glimpsed a male Black-throated Gray Warbler (NM species #259 and Bernalillo #201).

Black-throated Gray Warbler in CA. Photo by matt knoth from Flickr and used under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

Someone was nice enough to feed the horse statue.

This Ring-necked Pheasant startled me as it ran out of a bush. Then he strutted away!

The day after the intense east plains birdathon trip, I got word of a rare eastern warbler back at the nature center. Of course I was going to go. Several of the ABQ area’s birders were at the scene, a few of whom I’d accompanied over the weekend. I did find all on my own a couple of reported Northern Waterthrushes (Bernalillo species #202) in the ditch. The rarer warbler took some time but eventually either Raymond or Cole coaxed it out of the brush and there was a young female Prothonotary Warbler (NM species #291 and Bernalillo #203)! A somehow I hadn’t seen a Brown-headed Cowbird in the county yet (#204).

Mid-may saw a flurry of sightings from the UNM campus. I missed a reported Rose-breasted Grosbeak, but did finally see a Green-tailed Towhee in the county and a surprise Gray Catbird on May 9th (#208-209). A few days later, I found (or re-found) a migrant Swainson’s Thrush (NM species #294 and Bernalillo #210), quite rare in the state. A different Swainson’s was around a few days after that.

On May 14th, I heard my first county Yellow-breasted Chat across the river from the nature center trails (#211).

Yellow-breasted Chat in AZ. Photo by Marcel Holyoak at flickr and used under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

On May 16th, Melissa and I went to Embudito Canyon and Doc Long picnic area in the Sandias. The canyon was very productive early in the morning: many calling quail, a family of Cactus Wrens, numerous singing Black-chinned Sparrows, and a loud by skulking Rufous-crowned Sparrow. A Northern Mockingbird was new for the county (#212) at Embudito and a Grace’s Warbler heard at Doc Long was #213.

A Vermilion Flycatcher showed up north of the nature center on the 18th and stayed for a few days; I saw it on the 19th and 20th. (Not a new one for the county–I saw one in April on restricted county property south of the airport.)

An eBird report of buntings at the Tingley Beach bosque ponds send me there on the morning of the 20th. Birding was slow at first, but I found an area of fruiting mulberry trees which were full of Black-headed Grosbeaks and Cedar Waxwings. Present in smaller numbers were Green-tailed Towhees on the ground, a single Blue Grosbeak, and the birds I came to see: Lazuli and Indigo Buntings (#214-215). Flycatchers were all over that day: six species at the ponds including Hammond’s (#216) and Olive-sided. A foursome of Cattle Egrets (#217) were present that day in a field near the Vermilion Flycatcher at the nature center. When I showed up at the nature center, some birders told me about an Ovenbird that had been seen earlier but not for a few hours. The hordes of school kids might have had something to do with that–after things quieted down, I tracked down the elusive Ovenbird (NM species #295, Bernalillo # 218) for a few quick views deep in a bush.

Phred texted me on the 30th about a Blue-winged Teal at the UNM duck pond and then about a Northern Parula. I found both, as well as several species of flycatchers and the continuing female Wood Duck and her two chicks.