Semilocal Birding - Love, Contempt, a Prairie Falcon and a Falcon of the Prairie

Common as they may be, I've never been ungrateful for Common Loons...they have one of the best bird calls in the world, forage for crabs excellently and dive righteously. They are better-looking than Red-throated Loons, more approachable than Pacifics/Arctics, and only occasionally resemble Yellow-billed Loons...which are probably a more interesting bird, but I've only seen a couple. Emeryville Marina, Emeryville (duh), California (duh duh duh).

In recent years it has been a struggle to keep up with my formerly furious pace of blogging that once went hand-in-hand with The Perpetual Weekend...what is dead may never die. This is not due to a decreased interest in the Birdosphere or even laziness (!), but due to the horrible reality of having a permanent, full-time job...and now a full-time baby. Looking at my recent posts, I am happy to see a wide range of subjects being covered...Puerto Rico, eBird, Humboldt County, Ventura County, the "internet" (whatever that is), and best of all, Cass' Swainson's Thrush post...but one topic is noticeably absent. Where the fuck is the local birding?

Somehow, the bread and butter of almost all bird blogs has gone woefully unblogged in the past couple months. This blog glitch will now be fixed.

Pick your jaw up off the floor, dear reader...yes, this really is a SPOTTED SANDPIPER.

Fascinating that so many sandpiper and plover species can cram into so many different habitats, but the Spotted Sandpiper alone (in North America anyway) is willing to breed along rivers, creeks and mountain lakes. An ingenious move, as far as avoiding competition. Maybe this explains why they are so undiscerning about habitat selection outside of the breeding season...once they've mastered habitats that no other shorebird would dare to breed in, they can live anywhere.

Sadly, living in California does come with birding disadvantages, and the lack of sea duck diversity is one that stings every winter. Sure there are a couple Black Scoters here and a Harlequin Duck there, but Surf Scoter is the only common one. Keeping in line with this trend, Long-tailed Duck is a nice low-level rarity, and two in one place is a lot in California. These were the only Long-tailed Ducks I saw last year 😥. By the way, the caption in the Blogger toolbar for that emoji reads "Disappointed but relieved face."

San Francisco isn't that far from the east bay, but I've yet to bird it in 2017. I've caught a couple good shows there at least.

In January, very soon before Annabelle was born, I convinced Billy that going to see a Black-tailed Gull in Monterey was important for some reason. I thought I would dip...my luck with chasing Vague Runts had been exceptionally good for almost a year, and I was due to miss out on a lifer...and miss it we did! There were hardly any gulls to look through, and the bonus Slaty-backed Gull that had been hanging around was also absent. The lone birding highlight of the day was noticing a pair of Tundra Swans in a small slough as we ripped through the sky drove above them on an overpass.  Ah, what a relief...a sweet sweet self-found rarity, and a bird I missed entirely in 2016. Photographed south of Castroville.

After dipping on the Black-tailed Gull, I figured it was time I dip on something closer to home...the Harris's Sparrow at the Las Gallinas Ponds in Marin. This highly desirable bird had been present for several weeks, and it was high time I unsuccessfully searched for it. Despite putting in a great deal of time loitering around the parking lot waiting for the bird to show, I failed. Fortunately, this is a very birdy site in winter, so all was not lost. Lincoln's Sparrows are usually on the retiring side, but this one was bolder than most.

Song Sparrows are a great deal more common and confiding. Unlike their Lincoln's brethren, who swear a vow of silence every winter, Song Sparrows happily sing year-round.

Since we are on the topic of common birds that some of you are probably wincing at, this Common Yellowthroat should not surprise you. Sadly, California has just four common warbler species that overwinter - Yellow-rumped, Townsend's, Orange-crowned and yellowthroats. This is not an ideal situation. Hopefully a certain proposed split will pass, and we will have five species of warblers instead. Speaking of which...

Large numbers of Audubon's (above) and Myrtle Yellow-rumped Warblers both winter in the area. Perhaps no bird more personifies the phrase "familiarity breeds contempt". There is nothing at all about them that is not likable, they are just so fucking common that by the time you have been birding in this state a few years you have said or thought the phrase "Just a Yellow-rump" more than any other phrase you've said or thought in your life.

Here is a Myrtle, for your edification. I'm a bit more partial to Myrtles than Audubon's, partially because they have a more interesting face pattern and partially because they are kinda rare down Ventura way, which is where I started birding. Unfamiliarity breeds love. The vast majority of Audubon's and Myrtle alike will be gone within a month, but we will see the likes of them again.

Few of California's birds spend more time on the wing than the White-throated Swift, which are often easier to see near freeway overpasses (where they will roost and nest) than traditional birding spots. The Las Gallinas Ponds are a haven for swift and swallow alike throughout the year, so they can make for a good place to get good looks and poor photos of our only expected winter swift.

Good morning old friend.

Ah, the Sora. Few birds are so humble, yet so successful. You can see a Sora in the Yukon Territories, you can see a Sora in Ecuador. They are pleasant to come across wherever you may be.

This may look like a run-of-the-mill Red-winged Blackbird to you, but this is a mellow oh-that's-nice bird for discerning bay area birders. Bicolored Blackbirds are the abundant Red-winged form here, and females are extremely drab and dark, looking eerily similar to Tricolored Blackbirds. Bright, well-marked females like this are clearly from other realms, and stand out readily from the locals.

A solid highlight of the morning was Haynoring a Prairie Falcon perched on a transmission tower a mile away for a self-found sweet-but-hearty Marin County bird. Well, checking eBird, it looks like someone else found it a couple weeks earlier, but hey I didn't know that at the time. Speaking of falcons of the prairie...

Mmm yes, a prairie falcon indeed...this "Prairie" Merlin jumped off a fence post and took a bath in a puddle. This is what some would call a "lifer situation". I only see 1-2 Prairie Merlins per winter in California, so this crisp blue-backed bastard was a very good follow-up to the Prairie Falcon.

No Harris's Sparrow, but very good birding otherwise...my Marin County Snow Goose was foraging near the access road on the way out. Two Marin birds! Billy didn't go into labor while I was birding! Great success!

The Human Birdwatcher Project Presents: How To Misidentify A Bird

This may be a Curve-billed Thrasher, but we know how you can make it into a Bendire's. The verdict is in...identifying a bird does not need to reflect reality!

For years, The Human Birdwatcher Project ("birders are people too!") has been providing information on how birders can better themselves and avoid making common identification errors. We believe that this has left an impact...but it's not enough. Birds are still getting misidentified by the truckload. Maybe we've been going about it all wrong? Maybe some birders actually do not want to identify birds, they want to misidentify birds. So in the interest of serving the birding community and giving the people what they really want, we will supply you with a truly comprehensive list...that's right, the best misidentification practices to ensure that your identification skills will stay permanently stunted! Follow these tips and just watch yourself turn into an ace misidentifier of birds. Are you on eBird? Following these tips can get you banned! Are you a biologist who studies birds for a living? Kiss that job goodbye! Are you a beloved leader of local Audubon trips? Not anymore! Your once happy and fulfilling birding social life, filled with camaraderie and travelling adventures, will erode into a lonesome weekly dirge of going to the same mediocre places over and over again...misidentifying the same birds you see all the time as different rarities that you've never actually seen anywhere! After putting this list into play, you too can be a Magician of Misidentification, a Stormtrooper of Stringing, a Sultan of Sketchiness.

How is this possible? Well, read on!

Don't use a field guide. Use the internet instead! The internet has never been wrong about anything. Field guides have a lot of good information all condensed in one place. If you have any, throw them on the fire if you want to assure that your misidentification skills are kept razor-sharp.

Don't use a field guide that has been published or updated in the last 15 years. You want to be blinded from taxonomic changes and improved field marks. Golden Guide for life!

Don't learn about bird parts. What the hell is a scapular? How does a duck have a nail in its bill? Who would do such a thing to a poor duck anyway? Field guides and birders alike use a lot of lingo and jargon to describe different parts of bird anatomy, feather tracts, and types of markings. Avoiding learning about what these things mean is a great way to keep yourself in the dark about how to pick up on field marks.

If you avoid looking at range maps, you can successfully transform this Spotted Sandpiper into a Common Sandpiper.

Don't think about range or abundance. Are you in New Hampshire? Did that white bunting you just saw look like a McKay's Bunting? If you avoid learning the range of that bird, you could successfully avoid finding out that you probably saw a Snow Bunting.

In any given place in the country, most bird species are quite rare. There might be a couple hundred that are not, but then there about 9,800 that are. Do not take a bird's local abundance, or lack thereof, into account when identifying birds. That was not a flock of 30 Savannah Sparrows you saw yesterday, they were all Henslow's...knowing that Henslow's are actually very rare in your area could compromise your misidentification.

Don't think about seasonality. One does not find longspurs in California in June. If you are in California in June and you think you are looking at a longspur, it is best to not know this.

Don't consider similar species. You might say, "This bird looks like a Thayer's Gull". To that I would say, leave it at that! Don't delve into all the other gulls it could be and have to examine those pesky fieldmarks.

Don't think about habitat. Unfortunately, many bird species are found only in specific habitats, so if you do have a field guide (which should be ashes in the fireplace by now), don't ever read this section for any species, as it could sadly be quite educational.

Don't observe behavior. Was the bird pumping its tail? Was it on the ground or high up in a tree? These things are better left unnoticed.

Don't think about exotic species and "domestics". If someone questions your Fork-tailed Flycatcher observation and asks if it could have been a Pin-tailed Whydah, you tell them "that is not a real bird". If you see a giant brown goose 5 times the size of a Mallard that is too fat to fly out of the barnyard pond it's in, mark Pink-footed Goose off your checklist and move on.

Carolina Wrens are loud, with a very distinct song. You may be tempted to learn it, but that would be a mistake. Protip: Blare music from your phone whenever you feel like there is too much birdsong around.

Don't listen to bird vocalizations. Vocalizatons are very hard for inexperienced birders to wrap their heads around; even the best birders can be at a complete loss when identifying birds by sound if they are dropped into another state or country for the first time. So why bother? Give in to your confusion, your fears and do not pay attention to any boring noises the bird utters. Waste of time.

Don't use eBird. There are countless good birders out there who don't use eBird. That said, eBird is a fantastic tool for learning about what birds occur in a particular area. If you are an inexperienced birder and want to continue to make identification blunders, by all means continue ignoring the existence of eBird.

One field mark is good enough to clinch an identification. Don't closely examine the entire bird, just hone in on one field mark. I cannot stress how important this one is if you want to be constantly misidentifying birds.

Find your routine and never break it. Go to the same places over and over again, birding new areas as little as possible. Do not bird outside your county. This will assure that you have minimal exposure to different birds that you could inadvertently learn about.

Bird alone. Do not learn from others by any means! Also, you can keep making mistakes and no one will ever try and correct you. Brilliant.

Be completely dependent on your camera. Looking at a bird through a cluttered viewfinder and a hopelessly lost autofocus is absolutely what you want. Only ID birds from photos, no matter how bad they are and no matter how inaccurate the colors on the bird appear. For all those birds you don't photograph, it's like they never existed...right?

This is a Yellow-footed Gull. In the United States, 99.9% of birders will never see one away from the Salton Sea. This is a bird that is not only common away from there, they are not expected any place else in the country, period. Could you be part of that 0.1% to see them someplace else? Absolutely.

Presume it is not a common bird. Yup, you just happened to find the fist ever Pine Bunting in your state at your feeder. What luck! You are so lucky! No way it could be anything else, just go with it.

Presume it is a hybrid. You can read all about that right here, and if you want to learn more, additional resources are available in this post. It is really trendy to misidentify birds as hybrids right now, so come jump on the bandwagon!

You are never wrong about any identifications you make. Duh!

Get butthurt. Attack eBird reviewers who question your observations with great indignation and vitriol. Wage war on your state Bird Police when they reject your records. Not only should you never be wrong, let your emotions escalate and get carried away whenever someone disagrees with an ID you make. I recommend it highly! It's the bitter frosting on the cake of ineptitude.

Of course, if you want to move beyond being atrocious at identifying birds correctly and truly become a horrendous birder overall (the complete package!), the Human Birdwatcher Project has lots more advice to dole out. But you'll have to read the upcoming book to learn more, which is due out...

Nah, no book teaser, we've been providing this service for free for years now. Why? Because we at HBP care about you....it's not about us, it's about you, the human birdwatchers. We care about the birders who like to identify birds, and the the birders who like to misidentify birds...ok we care more about identifying them correctly, but you should now be fully equipped to readily misidentify birds on a daily basis. Please share your findings with rare bird alerts, listservs, eBird and Facebook groups. People will be impressed with your superhuman abilities to find unusual birds, though someday you might have to face an intervention. If that happens...well come right back here, and we will set you straight.

Winter Hangs On In The East Bay

Mmmmmm....Nelson's Sparrow.  Show me your orange face.  Show it to me at high tide.  Does anyone else think of Nelson Muntz whenever they hear the name of this bird?

Much of the Birdosphere is already talking about spring, and the eastern half of the U.S. is dying for spring, but here at BB&B we are desperately clinging to winter, if only because that is the season we associate with desperately needed rain and snow.  Listservs are being flooded with grave news of birds pairing up and flirting with each other, but that is not a dialogue that BB&B will be joining...not yet.  Foxtrot Oscar Sierra and Foxtrot Oscar Yankee are not phrases that abound, at least not for another couple weeks.  Winter birds are still here, after all, and aside from a swallow here and an Allen's Hummingbird there, the local avifanua remains distinctly winter-flavored.  Well, let's start things off with a rare bird and take it from there.

Nelson's Sparrows winter in California in low numbers (very low numbers), and after trying many times over the last few years to see our local bird or two at Arrowhead Marsh, I finally succeeded.  Although secretive (as expected), the bird was pretty confiding, giving some of the best looks I've ever had.


I had to manually focus for this shot, and bump up the ISO a bit.  Not bad, eh?  If I had a county nemesis bird, this would be the one, so getting such good looks was supremely satisfying. Good luck to you Nelson, on your way back to Saskatchewan or wherever it is you are about to be going.

Like Nelson's Sparrows, Marsh Wrens hate when you look at them, especially if you are nearby with the sun to your back, so it's always nice when they pop out in the open and even better when they sit for a portrait.  Unlike Nelson's Sparrows, Marsh Wrens have yet to be split, although some feel that that would be appropriate.  Photographed at Arrowhead Marsh.

For years I have known that Lake Merritt's outlet, the channel that connects it with the bay, was a good place to see Barrow's Goldeneyes up close, but I had always settled with seeing them occasionally on the lake itself, often at great and uninspiring distances.  I finally decided to check out the channel and was rewarded with this female Barrow's, my Foxtrot Oscar Sierra and Lima Oscar Sierra, which provided some of the best looks I've had of the species.

Interesting pattern on the bill...I'm not sure how much of that darkness is actual pigment and how much is accumulated gunk.  It's possible she is a young bird, retaining some of the mandibular darkness of a juvenile, but I don't think there is a way to conclusively know.

Perhaps you, the discerning birder, were concerned about the first two photos of the Barrow's Goldeneye.  Perhaps you liked the yellow bill, but not the head shape.  This is where your concerns can be laid to rest.  This is where you can tuck them into bed and say goodnight, and sing them the last lullaby they will ever hear.  Birds can change their head shape....it is known. Diving ducks often flatten their crowns when actively feeding...now you know.

It would have been preferable to have the hen Barrow's next to a hen Common, but drakes are better looking so I'm not complaining.

A female Common Goldeneye shows off the classic head shape and bill pattern one would expect of the species, although I wasn't expecting to see her on such a towering perch. Interesting approach.

Greater Scaup are the bane of molluscs, and they take their mollusc-bane very seriously. Photographed at Lake Merritt's outflow.

I wish my digestive system would allow me to just choke down entire shellfish...but if I could do that I might be a type of scaup, which is an odd thing to consider.

Big plumes are sprouting from the backs of egrets everywhere.  Great Egrets are ubiquitous in wetlands around the bay, and despite their abundance they will not be ignored.   I think it's fascinating that birds with such large ranges can be incredibly variable or, to our eye, very homogeneous...for example, there are 13 recognized subspecies of Marsh Wrens in North America, but just 1 subspecies of Great Egret that we know of.  Perhaps if they had more variety in their color palate there would be noticeable geographic variation, but then again maybe not.  Photographed at the Lake Merritt outflow.

Is Willet the new phalarope?  A Peregrine Falcon in the area was keeping the shorebirds from their preferred roosting destination, and out of frustration this Willet flock simply landed on the open water. Photographed at Arrowhead Marsh.

Did that unconvential Willet flock get you worked up?  Relax with this bucolic Spotted Sandpiper. Photographed at Lake Merritt's outflow.

You all know Hank, the world's most famous American White Pelican that lives at Lake Merritt.  I prefer to photograph Hank's wild, free-flying buddies when they are around (Hank is a cripple and was brought here from Oregon, where she collided with powerlines), but Hank just looks so damn sexy this time of year I had to crush her face.  And yes, as far as anyone can tell Hank is a girl, she was presumably named before anyone saw her next to any other pelicans (males are noticeably larger, though there is overlap).

This is my favorite photo I have of her, without a doubt.

In case you were thinking about being in a good mood today, here is a lynched cormorant for you to look at. What a shitty way to die...life is pain. Photographed at Lake Merritt.

When Your Mother Is Crying Into The Stuffing, Winter Is Coming

The Eurasian Wigeon are back...duck season is upon us, once again. Be wary of female "Common Pochards", already reported in Oregon and California this fall, that turned out to be Redheads. Crab Cove, Alameda, CA.

It's the day after Thanksgiving. You feel bloated, and being confronted with your weird family is crushing your soul. You suspect one of your uncles of being a Klan member and your other uncle keeps hitting on you...in front of everyone...which is really weird. Your cousin clearly has done too many designer drugs and you wonder how the rest of your family isn't noticing this. Your brother's hippie girlfriend is discussing the power of certain crystals on auras with your dad, who in turn is judging her mercilessly. Your mother is silently crying into the cold stuffing while Rush Limbaugh spews hatred and bullshit from the radio. These people are driving you deep into the bottle...so you better go birding before everything is totally fucked.

Fall is almost in the history books, and winter is starting to take it's gentle grip here in California. It's even rained a few times, which has been a worryingly rare event for the past few years, so fingers are crossed for more rain and rare birds. I've finally begun clawing my way out of a rare bird rut, and am looking forward to what the winter has to offer.

Right. Here is a platter of recent winter-flavored birds. Good luck with your weekend everybody.

Eurasian Wigeon are regular winter visitors to much of California, especially in the Central Valley, where you can see double digits in a day without much difficulty. It would be nice to know where these birds actually come from...how many of these birds breed in Alaska? How many are coming down from Russia? The male in front is still doing a bit of molting, and that's a female EUWI lurking in the back.

Eurasian Wigeon females don't tend to be reported nearly as often as males, which is totally understandable, considering their blandness. Note the richly-colored head compared to an American Wigeon.

Here's a standard-issue American Wigeon hen for comparison. Photographed at Crab Cove.

Spotted Sandpiper. One thing that photography makes me do is pay attention to common, taken for granted birds much more than I would otherwise...this SPSA is a prime example of that. Oyster Bay Regonal Shoreline, San Leandro, CA.

Common Sandpiper is a bird that would probably be overlooked by 99.9% of birders if one will ever be (has been?) seen in California. It's just not a bird on our radar, although I don't think anyone would ever be shocked if it did occur. One thing to check for Common Sandpiper is how wide the white wing stripe is at the base of the wing...on Spotteds, as this one demonstrates well, the wing stripe narrows and fades toward the base of the wing, whereas it would look comparatively bold on a Common in this area.

There is no doubt that American Avocets are the most graceful of our shorebirds. That said, I think an Avocet bill would make for an insidious murder weapon. Photographed at Oyster Bay Regional Shoreline.

When the thought of your crazy family begins bubbling up into your consciousness, remember the serenity of the roosting avocet.

Ah, the regal Canvasback. Always a refreshing bird. Lake Merritt, Oakland, CA.

The diagnostic "seduction pose".

A female Bufflehead uses her tail to come in for a perfect and picturesque landing. Photographed at the Berkeley Fishing Pier, Berkeley, CA.

Unlike where I grew up in SoCal, Surf Scoters are both plentiful and approachable here in the bay area, which is not something I take for granted. Photographed at the Berkeley Fishing Pier.

Surf Scoter. It's not considered to be on the list of face-melting birds, but I reckon it comes pretty close. Photographed at the Berkeley Fishing Pier.

A young male Surf Scoter, perhaps frustrated that is has no aesthetic appeal to speak of, utters a deadly bellow. All nearby mollusc shells were blasted to pieces. Photographed at the Berkeley Fishing Pier.

The Horned Grebe, a flat-headed wonder of nature. If you are a beginning birder and have mastered the Horned vs. Eared Grebe ID challenge, know that you are going places. Photographed at the Berkeley Fishing Pier.

Eared Grebe, ubiquitous in California. If this bird still presents problems for you, I suggest you quit birding entirely and take up grebeing instead. They are wonderfully mellow birds; watching them for hours on end will do wonders for your mental health, if not your ID skills. Photographed at the Berkeley Fishing Pier.