The Emperor Does Not Share Your Optimistic Appraisal Of The Situation

Fuck, Vader sure had some good lines didn't he? That was from one of my favorites scenes in Return of the Jedi. I guess he can credit The Dark Side for imbuing him with a dry sense of humor, which he clearly lacked as Anakin Skywalker. Anakin was a tool.

Over the winter I read a listserv message about an Aleutian Cackling Goose being seen at a coastal golf course. This news, neither unusual nor unexpected, was not exactly on par with learning that Emperor Palpatine was going to come for a visit to potentially force-murder you for your underwhelming project management skills. In other words, I thought "cool story, bro" and moved on.

The next day a very apologetic birder wrote back to the list, saying what he had meant to say was that it was an EMPEROR GOOSE, and that he had a massive brain-shart due to sleep deprivation and wrote the wrong species in his email. Emperor Goose is an Aleutian goose, after all. As expected, the chase wagons were subsequently fired up and the bird was relocated immediately, and following this success the original observer was celebrated instead of crucified.

The Emperor's arrival coincided with the birth of my daughter, but eventually I was able to make it out to the coast to pay my respects. The bird was a lovely adult, no sign of any dark smudging on the immaculate white head. It wasn't in great light, but birders are not allowed to have any complaints when they see an Emperor Goose.

The Emperor kept the local nonnative Canadas for company, which were not impressed by their new, totally superior member of their flock. You can't really blame them...almost any bird looks like shit when it has to stand next to an Emperor Goose.

This was the southernmost Emperor I have ever seen, and the southernmost to show up in California in a long time...a long time. Talk about a quality year bird. Sharp Park, Pacifica, CA.

On the way back I made a detour to a place with nice lawns and a shitload of dead bodies...it had been far too long since I had birded a cemetery. Who doesn't like birding cemeteries??? Anyways, a Vermilion Flycatcher was wintering there and it did not take long to find. While Vermilions are becoming increasingly common in southern California (a very good thing), they are still powerful rarities this far north. "Only Sleeping" indeed...Cypress Lawn Cemetery, Colma, CA.

Roosting American Avocet flocks have a mellowing effect on the soul when viewed at close range. Serenity now. Albany Mudflats, Albany, CA.

Regular Northern Pintail crushings are healthy, especially when you can catch the purple iridescence on their heads. We are balls deep in molting Mallard season now, but soon they'll be back, and in greater numbers. Albany Mudflats, Albany, CA.

California is blessed with huge numbers of Bushtits. They are practically everywhere. If you look at an ebird abundance/distribution map, the state is almost black with Bushtit. They make chickadees look like unadaptive niche-specialists in comparison. Luckily for birders, Bushtits are great. We may complain about Yellow-rumped Warblers, but no one talks shit on Bushtits. Albany Bulb, Albany, CA.

An interesting thing about Bushtits is their lack of repertoire that the human ear can pick out. It sounds as if they have a contact call and an alarm call, nothing more. They don't really have a typical song per se, but they are quite noisey birds.

Look at this diminutive little bastard. I have crushed Least Sandpipers a great many times, and I will continue to do so indefinitely. Maybe one day it will lead me to a Long-toed Stint, which I nominate for "most overlooked Sibe in the U.S.". The Lower 48 is long overdue for another LTST...will this be the year? Richmond Marina, Richmond, CA.

Greater Scaup coming in for a landing, with a bonus Red-throated Loon lurking in the background. Richmond Marina, Richmond, CA.

Such majesty, such scootsmanship, as some would say. Anthropomorphizing is a bitch, but it's hard to accept that waterfowl may not enjoy landing on water. They get to brake, skate and scoot to a stop. Then they shake their tails, and let out some kind of quack/honk/whistle, looking all cute and shit. Come on waterfowl, tone it down.

Perhaps this is where I should have said, "They'll soon be back, and in greater numbers." Eh? EH? GET IT????

Don't worry, I wasn't going to start this post with a crippling rarity then drive it into the ground with abundant brown birds, we can talk about this Peregrine Falcon instead. This very smart-looking bird was at the mouth of Pilarcitos Creek, in Half Moon Bay, CA.

I've seen a lot of Peregrines over the years. The only ones I've seen really closely were either really sick or were trying to behead me because I was too close to a nest. This one was neither. It was mellow. However, due to the location, I had to wonder if this was one of the Ross's Gull murderers. The scene of the crime was about 4 miles away, but this could have been a different bird.

The bird, quite unexpectedly, did not give a fuck about me. Decent photo ops suddenly turned into prolonged bursts of shutter fire when I realized it might be a great many years before a falcon was this nonchalant again. Eventually it began to crumble under the relentless torrent of crushes I unleashed upon it. It surrendered, signaled by flashing the underside of its foot and lowering its head weirdly. How often does one observe the underside of a Peregrine foot?

I'm not sure why the bird was so unwary that morning. It was bloody cold, but falcons are not reptiles. I did appreciate the killer looks though.

Awesome bird! I've never even had a kestrel be this confiding. Random aside: one of my first birding memories was walking out to the mouth of the Santa Clara River Estuary with my dad when I was a kid. It was winter, we didn't see shit except for a Sanderling, which was flushed by a Peregrine and chased with great persistence and glee. This was a very exciting event for adolescent Steve. Back and forth they went; it seemed like the falcon was just terrorizing the Sanderling for fun, as it was such a tiny prey item. Anyways, it was a facemelting experience for me, thought you should know.

The Rustic Bunting, Bicolored Blackbirds, Worries and Dread

After having a miserable, sickly New Years Eve, I thought it would be best to start the real birding year with the local Rustic Bunting. I met up with AJ Johnson of Austin fame, who had somehow tricked his family into letting him bird for a few hours. The bunting took me 4.5 hours of waiting to see it on my first try, but I had no need for such patience on this day.

Not only was patience not required, the bird did not at all act like the reclusive, cowardly, nervous Vague Runt that barely showed itself to me only two weeks earlier. It refused to leave the area once it showed up. We were with it for a good part of the morning, and the bird had little fear of its nerdy fan club that had gathered nearby. One could even say it was confiding.

I can't tell you what a relief it is to have seen this no-longer-cryptic bird a couple of times now. It's a sharp bird. It's a rare bird.  When it was found the day I drove down to Southern California, I was about ready to turn in my binoculars and start stamp collecting...which is like the only thing birders can think of when they talk about something more nerdy and obscure than birdwatching.  Little do birders know that no one has collected a stamp in about nine (9) years.

What a bizarre little crest.  Cool bird!

I'll be honest....I've struggled a bit with this bird.  For a Bicolored Blackbird (the local form of Red-winged Blackbird in the bay area), it's hella dark and dull. No rufous tones. For a female-type Tricolored Blackbird (is this a HY male? It's awfully blackish) it seems like it has some contrasting edging on the wings and back that you would not necessarily expect...but then again blackbirds tend to look pretty fresh still this time of year. It also has some pink in the face (much more of Bicolored trait than a Tricolored) and the bill does not look particularly Tricoloredy...but if you look at a lot of Tricolored Blackbirds you will figure out that the bill shape/length can be quite variable. I suspect this is a Bicolored, but I could be wrong...do they ever appear this dark and colorless? Photographed at Lake Merced, San Francisco, CA.

Overall it is quite shabby looking in terms of a color palate...what do you think?

Here is a pretty typical Bicolored Blackbird, for comparison. Check out all the rufous on the back and much more prominent, richly-colored edgings on the flight feathers...yet its still pretty drab compared to other populations of Red-winged Blackbirds. Photographed at Lake Merced.

Birding may be hard, but that doesn't matter when you meet a creature that is telling you, "life is pain". This Townsend's Warbler had Eucalyptus gunk smeared all over it's bill and face, and was pathetically attempting to forage on the ground. It constantly had it's bill open and seemed quite stressed. Photographed at Golden Gate Park, San Francisco, CA.

How would you like to have your nostrils plugged with resin?  How would you like to mouthbreathe to survive?  It amazes me that there are so many Eucalyptus deniers out there who claim this does not happen to birds. And yes, this bird was right next to a big blooming Eucalyptus tree.

Of course, Ruddy Ducks never have to worry about such things. This one is worrying about being round and plump. You needn't worry, Ruddy Duck. Photographed at Golden Gate Park.

Many waterfowl can be seen enthusiastically courting this time of year. Most ducks seem to get the job done by doing wonderfully weird things with their heads. When you see a female getting in on the head-bobbing action, you know the drake is doing something right.  Photographed at Golden Gate Park.

Arrowhead Marsh, in Oakland, is famed for being a reliable place to actually lay eyes on Ridgway's Rail. It used to be easier, back when you could actually walk out on the boardwalk into the marsh. Now it's become a decent shorebird roost, so at least somebody is using it. The marsh is still a good place to get on this choice rail species, as I had a whopping 9 Ridgway's Rails in one scope sweep on this day.

A young Peregrine Falcon. You know, we take these birds almost for granted now...it's hard to believe how rare they were just a few decades ago, and I'm grateful for the DDT ban and the Endangered Species Act.  I dread what the house and senate will attempt to do in the constant Republican campaign to gut environmental laws in the coming years...it is sure to be brutal. Photographed at Arrowhead Marsh.

September Birding: My Grunts and Vague Runts

A Vague Runt Chestnut-sided Warbler abides and confides. Ferry Park/Sue Bierman Park, San Francisco, CA.

The first half of September has come and gone. I've done pretty well for myself...no MEGAS or state birds, but enough to keep me happy. Fall migration seems to be going a lot better than last year in northern California. Humboldt County had a Ruby-throated Hummingbird, which is a big deal here. Point Reyes and Bodega Bay have been good, and the Farallones have hosted a number of decent passerines, along with the goddamn gannet. I dipped on a one-day-one-observer-wonder Sulphur-bellied Flycatcher, which sucked but at least I didn't have to cope with getting gripped off by dozens of other birders.

Not bad at all so far, although of course many of us are waiting with baited breath for something Siberian to show up. How I long to meet a wheatear, how I would coddle a dotterel, how I would warble to a Dusky Warbler...but the season is young! Of course, there are still a number of pelagic trips I plan on leading (starting with Bodega Bay tomorrow), so there will be lots of upcoming opportunities to meet Vague Runts with or without tubes attached to their faces.

This was a nice county bird, which allowed some brutal crushings. Ferry Park is an awful, disgusting place to bird but it gets Vague Runts and is hella close to BART. I'm sure I'll be back again this fall.

Here is a more typical photo of a Vague Runt. I was shocked to find this Laughing Gull loafing with Elegant Terns and California Gulls at Point Reyes earlier this month. Before this bird, I've previously only seen one in northern California. I don't think it was ever refound. Drake's Beach, Point Reyes, CA.

Back to crushier fare. Hutton's Vireos are the bravest of all vireos....there, I said it. I've been holding in this news for years, but it feels good to finally get it out. Like their lookalike relatives the Ruby-crowned Kinglets (and unlike most of humanity), Hutton's Vireos are not afraid to snuggle up with a birder. Golden Gate Park, San Francisco, CA.

Depending on their posture and plumage, Hutton's can passingly resemble Hammond's Flycatcher, Cassin's Vireo and Ruby-crowned Kinglet (this one is in kinglet mode). I have distant memories of actually struggling to tell apart Ruby-crowned Kinglets and Hutton's Vireos. Now, I can look back and laugh.

If anyone is aware of a more interesting Hutton's Vireo photo, please notify the authorities. The Global Birder Ranking System has heaped praise upon me for capturing this image. The bellow was aimed directly at me, and I was immediately knocked to the ground by the force of it. I think I am still bleeding internally.

A pair of Peregrine Falcons overlook their migrant-ridden domain. Point Reyes, CA.

I wonder how many bird species this one has consumed. Maybe she keeps a list.

Pomarine Jaegers will frequently come check out the chum line off the stern during pelagic trips. Photographed off Half Moon By, CA.

As you may have read about on other blogs, some nerds from the Birdosphere recently convened on the bay area for a pelagic trip. Flycatcher Jen came from Portland, This Machine Nate from Austin, and Laurence from Phoenix (we need a nickname for you Laurence). We got excellent weather but inexplicably few birds, unfortunately...oh well, pelagic trips are always a gamble, and unlike last year it seems there are very few Buller's Shearwaters offshore this fall. At least Nate didn't miss Black-footed Albatross for the second year in a row, and they all got lifers.

We had only one Sabine's Gull that day, but it came straight in to the stern for great looks.

Few other birds have been so wildly successful in turning the Economy of Style into something truly special.

Common Murres bellow loudly in northern California waters this time of year. 

Who know how many Pygmy Nuthatches I have crossed paths with. 3,256? That is my guess. Anyways, I finally got a decent photo of one. El Polin Spring, San Francisco, CA.

If you happen to live in a region lacking in small, hyperactive nuthatches, I would also suspect that you are living in a region of despair.

I know you easterners scoff when I talk about eastern birds here, so I'll end this post on a very Californian note. Here is a shitty Tricolored Blackbird picture. It's pure rubbish, I know...the light is rubbish, the color is rubbish, and even the bird is rubbish because it's freshly molted so it doesn't have that sharp look birders typically expect. But it's a pretty good bird, and also one that is declining rapidly. Photographed at Point Reyes, which is an excellent place to see them.

Regrets and Shorebirds Aside

This Yellow-headed Blackbird was the last interesting spring migrant I saw, back in early June. Despite the maelstrom raging around us, it begged me to crush it as it foraged passionately.

Wow. Just like that, we have plunged into rarity season. The Wood-Rail really opened the floodgates, didn't it? I have been without internet for quite a while now, and once I come back online rare shorebirds are being reported left and right. Being confined to an island that is not known for vagrant shorebirds, this shit is getting a little hard to handle...

But then I remember I just saw my state Red-necked Stint, and I can relax. While Lesser Sand-Plover is indeed a facemelting and anxiety-inducing rarity, I am happy to say that I saw one back in 1996...Greater Sand-Plover, on the other hand, is another story...a story of pain, failure, and regret.

Regrets and shorebirds aside, I am currently on my final tour of duty on Santa Cruz Island. The focal species of our studies are almost all done breeding, which makes field work go pretty quickly now that we are not checking on nests or chicks. Unfortunately, the internet gods who reign over the island have not been kind lately, so instead of enriching the Blogosphere, I've lately been going through back issues of National Geographic and spending way more time editing photos than usual. But I am sure to have pure, uncut internet access for the next few days, so I will try to do what I can while there is still time.

Here is a veritable smorgasbord of Santa Cruz Island scenes for your ocular consumption. See you soon!

I hope the bird made it off the island, rather than being eaten by a fox. It was pretty fearless, which may not been a good personality type with hungry foxes lurking everywhere.

The Peregrine Falcons no longer chide me (or try to kill me) when I get too close to their nest sites, although it's not rare to see an adult whiz by with a juvenile begging horribly close behind it.

The other day I looked up into the fog and saw 2 Peregrine Falcons (one of which was probably this bird) soaring with a kettle of 7 Red-tailed Hawks. That may not sound so strange to you, but on Santa Cruz Island in July, that was too many raptors for me to handle. I found myself kneeling in the grass, weeping into the dust. Strange sights call for strange reactions.

I have pelted my beloved and attractive readers with Island Fox photos lately, so you only get one today. This is outside the kitchen at Christy Ranch, where we are normally based.

For BB&B's very first Acorn Woodpecker photo, I thought I would make it particularly wholesome. If only the woodpeckers were storing acorns in the cross...the potential for bizarre metaphors would be endless.

Barn Swallows are one of the most abundant birds on the island. They have been raising chicks for months now. If a bird raises chicks over and over again for months, it would seem logical that they would become one of the most abundant birds, no? We all could learn a lesson from the Barn Swallow.

I take that back. I think Barn Swallows should go about creating more Barn Swallows as much as possible, but this is not a way of life I would recommend to any sane human lover of earth, life, liberty, etc. In the end, none of this has anything to do with Barn Swallows sunning themselves in ecstasy on a windowsill.

Christy Beach at sunset, with squid boats dotting the horizon. Not bad, not bad at all.

I think a lot can be learned from the social lives of Black Oystercatchers. They clearly do a lot of socializing, both in pairs and in strange group displays which remain unexplained. In this photo we see them behaving in a remarkably human way; completely ignoring each other, despite their obvious close proximity. They never did get a conversation going.

Heermann's Gulls are back in force, attempting to steal fish scraps out of the pouches of Brown Pelicans. A lot of them still have their dapper frosted heads, but they are going to start looking gray-headed and boring soon.

Fraser Point is on the west end of the island, where few lucky souls are privileged to travel. The next outcrop of land, to the left, is Santa Rosa Island. This is the view from one of my field sites (photo is blow-uppable, and taken with an iPhone).