From Anous to Thalasseus: Tern Heroes

Brown Noddy is a truly slick looking bird, with shades of gray, brown and black all somehow seamlessly melting into one another.  I'm told they can be pretty aggressive around nests but in my experience with them you just walk up to them and they let you stare at them super hard. Photographed at Midway Atoll.

I have a plan...a plan to see a certain species of tern.  A species I haven't seen before.  I'm not going to try for another couple of months, but I'm really looking forward to it.  I don't get lifer terns very often (the last couple were Bridled in 2013, Aleutian in 2010) so I'm getting pretty worked up about it. Terns are a big deal.  They are aesthetically pleasing, highly migratory, prone to vagrancy, and often offer a worthy ID challenge.  Many species are stunning, even while still comfortably constrained by The Economy of Style.  In anticipation and celebration of this event, I'm going to post a suite of other terns that have improved my life in myriad ways.

My experiences with Black Noddy, on the other hand, have not been similar.  They look at you from trees and don't want to be near you.  Although I saw many, many Black Noddies while out at Midway, this was the one and only really approachable individual I found...which I am grateful for, because it chose the perfect perch and perfect background. Note the longer, more slender bill in comparison to Brown Noddy.

Sooty Terns sure do get around...around the world, that is.  It's one of two tern species I've seen on the east coast, west coast, and Hawaiian Islands (Least Tern being the other).  This bird was (still is?) part of the colony on Eastern Island at Midway Atoll.

Ahhh, my last life tern, and what a sweet lifer it was.  Before seeing them I was always confounded about how these could be told from Grey-backed Terns (which do have some range overlap in the South Pacific), but I can see a difference now. This Bridled Tern was photographed off Cape Hatteras, North Carolina.

Grey-backed Terns are sweet birds...they sometimes nest in the same places as Sooty Terns, but are always less abundant and less annoying (Sooty colonies are loud and intense).  I've always considered them the luxury car of terns, although I don't know why and that probably doesn't make sense to anyone else.  Note the finer bill and paler back than the Bridled Tern above; Grey-backed also has less black in the primaries when seen from below. Photographed at Midway Atoll.

Least Terns and I go way back...they are one of the handful of birds that I remember well from those dark ages of before I was a birder.  I worked with these birds a lot in San Diego a couple years ago, unfortunately all of their breeding colonies fared horribly and it was kind of depressing (colonies up and down California failed that year).  Photographed in Escondido, CA.

As far as photography goes, shooting feeding terns never gets old.  Here is a Forster's Tern, mid-plunge. Photographed at the Tijuana River Estuary, CA.

Though shackled with a...common...yet horrible name, Common Tern is always a bird we enjoy seeing in California.  Rarely common, we most often find them during fall migration at the Salton Sea, coastal wetlands and well offshore, in the realm of Arctic Terns.  You would not expect to find a bird from the Canadian prairie far out at sea, but luckily birds have a habit of defying birder expectations.  Photographed at Ormond Beach, CA.

Arctic Terns are tantalizing.  Unless you are lucky enough to bird where they breed, they always seem so...ephemeral.  Uncommon off California during fall, they are never really dependable on pelagic trips, and sightings are usually brief and of poor to mediocre quality. I want to see more. Photographed off Bodega Bay, CA.

I first met Sandwich Tern at Bolsa Chica Ecological Reserve (in Orange County, CA) back in the mid 90's when one had teamed up with an Elegant Tern to make hybrids.  It would be over 10 years before I saw another, but now we make sure to eyeball each other with more regularity. Photographed at the Dry Tortugas, FL.

Elegant Terns are a common sight up and down California in summer and fall.  As breeders, they have increased in the state over the years, forming colonies in San Diego, Orange and most recently Los Angeles Counties...no minor achievement, considering how few breeding colonies there are in the world.  Photographed at Half Moon Bay, CA.

Unlike on the Atlantic coast, Royal Terns do not venture very far northward; they are a rare bird away from southern California.  Despite frequently associating with Elegant Terns (which provide great comparisons), they are often misidentified...but such is the fate of many terns South Padre Island, TX.

For the world's biggest tern, you would think Caspian Terns would have some different behaviors from the rest of the family...but aside from monstrous vocalizations, they are pretty similar.  Fortunately, those horrible calls are quite charming.  Photographed at South Padre Island, TX.

Gull-billed Terns, on the other hand, know how to stand apart.  Gull-billed Terns are just as content foraging for horned lizards in the sand dunes as they are fish in the surf line.  They hunt bird eggs and chicks, and will get mobbed by other tern species.  They are everything Caspian Terns wish they could be, all while carrying themselves with a certain grace and elegance. Photographed at the Tijuana River Estuary.

Black Terns have always been there for me.  Back when I started birding, a Black Tern was one of the first Vague Runts I ever saw (at the Ventura Water Treatment Plant, if you must know). They are always there for me at the Salton Sea in the summer.  When I needed them most (for lack of humanity to spend time with), they were there in the greatest of numbers in North Dakota.  I would be lying if I said I wasn't dying to see their Vague Runt brethren, White-winged Tern, but until I do Black Terns will continue to validate my existence.  Photographed at Lostwood NWR, North Dakota.

White Tern is a singular bird...there's nothing quite like them. They nest pretty much anywhere that isn't the ground, just plop out an egg where hopefully the chick won't be too exposed to the weather. They are tame. They come hover next to your head as you walk by their perch. If you haven't seen one, they are your favorite bird waiting to happen. Photographed at Midway Atoll.

Last but not Least Tern, I finally give you a stupid tern pun and offer you an honorary tern, a Black Skimmer. Skimmers look great on the wing, but they always look so grumpy at rest. Maybe if no one could tell that I had eyeballs, I would seem grumpy too.  Photographed at South Padre Island, TX.

Birding Is Really Hard

Chuck-will's-widow, a long-awaited LIFE BIRD. I had no idea how freaking big these things were. Blucher Park, Corpus Christi, TX.

Despite the title of this post, I'm not about to pat myself on the back for being a legendary birder, or ramble on about the years of self-inflicted emotional damage birding has brought, or give all the gory details of the various life-threatening situations I've found myself in while in the pursuit of birds. When I tell you that birding is really hard, I mean it in an entirely different context.

Earlier this month I broke out of my habitual South Padre Island weekend routine to head a couple hours north to Corpus Christi, to bird with Nate of This Machine Watches Birds. The ABA just had a rally there, and specifically banned The Great Ornithologist Felonious Jive from attending because, in the words of a representative, "His birding skills make our leaders look like noobs, he smells like sardines, and people tend to get blackout drunk around him". Which is neither here nor there, but if the ABA is going to have a meeting there, you know the area has potential.

Wasted potential in this case. The birding was...mediocre...well, somewhere between mediocre and shitty. We hit a bunch of different migrant traps and other spots, but it was windy and the wind had been blowing the wrong direction for several days. On the Gulf Coast in the spring, that means only one thing...

Life is pain.

But is it really? No. Aside from getting to hang out with some people besides my coworkers for a change (refreshing as hell), I got a life bird. And not just any life bird...a gigantic nightjar. So all in all, the weekend was GREAT SUCCESS.

Pardon my grain, but I think you can still infer some of this bird's sickness from this unworthy image. Truly bizarre. I can't get over the birds structure, let alone the crazy immaculate camo the bird is rocking. Blucher Park is known for being a good spot to track this species and Eastern Whip-poor-will (which we dipped on).

This was the first of many Summer Tanagers I would see this spring. Paradise Pond, Port Aransas, TX.

California can have great shorebirding, but what we get in rockpipers and Sibe vagrants, we lose in charismatic eastern species. Stilt Sandpipers is one of those birds that is usually missing from any given shorebird flock on the west coast, and it's great getting to see so many (often in full-blown alternate plumage) here in Texas. Hazel Bazemore Park, Corpus Christi, TX.

Migrating makes Stilt Sandpiper so sleepy.

Blue-winged Teal are common down this way, and are capable of inducing their own brand of facemelt when they feel like it. Just let them whip out a wing. Turnbull Birding Center, Port Aransas, TX.

American Oystercatcher. It's so refreshing to see a black and white oystercatcher and not have to double check that it is a hybrid...that gets a bit old after a while. Jehl must have gone mad. Photographed at Indian Point, Corpus Christi (?).

The American Oystercatcher: a creature cursed with cankles.

Eastern Willets are plentiful along the coast here. Those with higher GBRS rankings than myself have suggested that the Willets will be split one day. Californians have ignored the existence of this subspecies for many years, but any birder who finds themselves near the Atlantic Ocean should get familiar with telling the two apart. Photographed at Indian Point.

"Kedek kidirk kedeek kerdek." - Least Tern. The sound of Least Terns talking to themselves is music to my ears. They are small and seemingly prone to poor reproductive success, but they are energetic and bring life to any beach or wetland they visit. Photographed at Indian Point.

The humble Sandwich Tern is dwarfed by it's orange-billed relative of royalty. Photographed on Mustang Island.

Pollywog Pond was one of many boring/disappointing places we birded. "Birding is really hard", I told Nate during our stroll through some great but lifeless habitat, and I meant it. One of the few birds of interest there was this low-flying Swainson's Hawk, which repeatedly coursed back and forth low over the treetops.

Despite the regrettable lighting, I got a few shots that I like. Swainson's Hawk is one of my favorite raptors, and it's been nice getting to see so many again this spring. Wish I could say that about Mississippi Kites...birding is really hard.

Ish Birds...Four In The Pink...Sora! Sora! Sora!

Reddish Egret. Obviously, this is a white morph, probably a young bird judging by the dull base of the bill. Hella elegant though. Speaking of Reddish Egrets, how come no other "ish" birds are in the U.S. and Canada? What about Purplish Sandpiper? That's a winning name right there. Yellowish Rail? Great Bluish Heron? I think I've struck gold.

Ever since the demise of the Perpetual Weekend, Saturdays and Sundays have taken on meaning again. No longer do I think, "Oh cool, my 9-to-5 friends will be down to go to a bar now". This is because A) I don't know anyone here that I would want to meet at a bar and B) because I work hella and I can only get some genuine and sustained birding in two days a week.

This weekend I am taking the nerdism to a much higher and more embarrassing level than usual and combining forces, once again, with Nate of This Machine Watches Birds. He's going to show me around the Corpus Christi/Port Aransas hotspots and hopefully hand me a lifer on a silver platter. I've spent minimal time birding that area, although I am happy to say that I am a Whooping Crane veteran. We'll see what the weather does, but next weekend I'm crossing fingers for a certain couple warblers and crossing toes for a certain couple nightjars. Or it might be a Life Is Pain weekend, but it will be good to escape the grips of the valley for a couple days.

Before BB&B returns to spring warbler madness, I thought I would pay my respects to some of the waterbirds that were around South Padre Island the other day.

Reddish meets Roseate...Reddish wins. South Florida is not the only place to go to see Reddish Egret and Roseate Spoonbill side by side.

Roseate Gull! Franklin's Gulls are migrating through the area now and they are easy to pick out from a distance because they are the only gulls that are glowing pink.

Here's one with a couple boring-breasted Laughing Gulls in comparison. Of course Franklin is not in possession of the most famous pink gull (that would belong to Ross), but I've always liked them.

You probably like them too. Admit it. Viewing this photo gives you the warm fuzzies. According to whatbird.com, this gull was named after Sir John Franklin, (who according to Wikipedia, died a horrible death while exploring the arctic wastes). The original name for this bird? Franklin's Rosy Gull.

Roseate Tern!!! Oh wait...it's just a roseate-colored tern, not a Roseate Tern. Sandwich Tern is an abundant bird on South Padre Island, and many of them are glowing pink now, much like their Elegant Tern cousins on the west coast.

There is a lot of sandwich courtship going on here. It's not as cool to watch as tandem aerial displays, but it is funnier.

The mighty bellow of a Royal Tern is a thing to behold.

I was lurking on the boardwalk at the birding center (which is next door to the convention center) and this semi-snazzy ibis traipsed out of the vegetation, not giving two fucks. I assumed it was going to be a White-faced (the expected Plegadis here), but a closer look proved me wrong.

Seeing no pink face and a depthless brown eye, I was ready to embrace it as a Glossy Ibis. But why the gray face ibis? Glossy Ibis does not look like this either.

Upon photo review, there does seem to be a slight tinge of pink in the face (apparently pink is the theme of this post), and maybe even some redness in the eye...which compliments the pale gray facial skin nicely if the bird is actually a Glossy X White-faced Ibis. Lifer hybrid! Tragically, I noticed that a "Glossy Ibis" was reported from eBird at the same spot that day.

The Sora. The commonest small rail. And yet, their abundance makes them no less difficult to observe from a very impressive proximity.

Soras of the boardwalk apparently do not know they are supposed to hide all the time. I know that not many people are frothing at the mouth for Sora observations, but it's a nice bird to come across when they are in a confiding mood.

I was pretty happy with these photos, even though the angle is kind of weird. Is there a scene more bucolic than a content Sora in a wetland? Clapper Rails run amok under the boardwalk too, hopefully I'll have a portrait of a Clapper Rail eyeball by the time I leave Texas.

Ternover: Your May Quiz Answer

Sandwich Tern. Note that the outer retrices, while not of Barn Swallow proportions, are significantly longer than the rest of the tail. Dry Tortugas National Park, FL.

Time for the quiz answer! What quiz? This quiz! We had guesses for Caspian, White, Royal and Gull-billed...so let's cut to the chase.

First, the bird is obviously a tern. What else would it be? 

Since I am the Number 7 birder in the United States (as opposed to the galaxy), you could probably deduce that I wasn't going to be a total ass and pick some tern from India to show you...so if you could figure out this was a tern, you are familiar with the playing field. So what should we start looking at?

Caspian Tern. Terns are not supposed to be ugly, but nobody told this beast. Poe Road, south end of the Salton Sea, CA.

There are three things to look at in the quiz photo: tail shape, wing pattern and foot color. Anything about structure is subtle at best, given the unusual pose and lack of a head to complete the picture. So what do we have? A tern with black feet, a narrow edging of black on the primaries, and a very short tail.

The black in the wings immediately eliminates White Tern from the field of candidates, and the lack of extensive black patches in the primaries quickly eliminates Caspian Tern as well. Least Tern has black along the leading edge of the wing, and Forster's/Common/Arctic/Roseate all have longer tails. Sandwich Tern would be a good fit, but the tail is too short even for that species.

Royal Tern. That's a pretty short tail...but also strongly forked. Border Field State Park, CA.

Royal Tern. This young bird does not have completely haggard flight feathers, but it does have distinct pale inner webs to the primaries, unique to juveniles of this species. Dry Tortugas National Park. 

So how about Royal Tern? It's a bird that can have black feet, limited black on the underwing and a short tail. A damn good guess, I reckon.

While Royal Tern is an excellent guess...its wrong! The tail of our quiz bird is simply too short and shallowly forked. What ABA Area tern has a tail like that? Gull-billed, of course.

Gull-billed Tern is the correct answer to this month's photo quiz...props to Carrie and Taxman for giving the correct answers. These Gull-billed Terns were photographed at the Tijuana River Mouth, Imperial Beach, CA.

Although details are scant, the San Diego Bay Gull-billed Tern population (which the above birds are/were a part of) is undergoing "a significant mortality event"...in other words, tons of them are dying, and for no obvious reason. Considering how rad these birds are, and the very small population these birds have in the western U.S., let's hope we get some answers soon.

In slightly better news, you can actually find Gull-billed Terns in India. Gotcha!