Plovers, Peeps, Goose-like Wingbeats

This adult Black-bellied Plover still has some appeal, but lacks in crispness/crispiness. In August, adult southbound shorebirds still wear the ragged remains of their once-impressive plumage they sported on the tundra or taiga. Sometimes it can present an ID challenge (i.e., with adult golden-plovers), at other times it is a simple statement...migration is on, the birds are back, and you need to be out looking for that rare shit. Elsie Roemer Bird Sanctuary, Alameda, CA.

It's September now, and I've been cruising. Unlike last year, when hoped-for rarities did not seem to start materializing until the very end of the month, things have been going swimmingly so far. Vague runts seem relatively plentiful, and disappointments have been few.

But as I said, there is much to catch up with. Before September, there was August. Here in the bay area, the birding has just gotten better and better...June is boring, July is better (shorebirds return), and August brings pelagic trips and plentiful shorebirds, not to mention a whole lot of suspense around the big question seasoned California birders ask each other (in trembling voices) every year...what will September bring? In other words, August birding is exciting again, and I thought I would pay respects to some of the birds of shore (not just shorebirds) prominently featured during the month.

Oh, and before we get in too deep, think of a bird (not a goose) with goose-like wingbeats. Got it? Now put it in your pocket and we will take it out for another look at the end of the post.

Snowy Plovers are patchily distributed around the bay area, favoring salt ponds and a few select beaches along the coast. This adult was washing off the salt at Frank's Dump in Hayward, CA.

Despite being adorable and intensely, Snowy Plovers are very territorial and often chase each other off or do battle if it is called for. The faded bird snuck up on the unsuspecting bather and chased it off. There were still a couple of broods of tiny, downy chicks out here this day (which seemed a bit odd...it was late August), so the aggression was not a surprise.

The Global Birder Ranking System (GBRS) lists me as the #7 U.S. birder, based on hundreds of factors. One of those factors is my ability to pass on knowledge, to not just hoard what I have learned. In that spirit, I want to let you you in on a secret...Semipalmated Plovers have white outer retrices. Did you know that? Middle Harbor Shoreline Park, Oakland, CA.

I may be #7, but I am just like you in a lot of ways...I have fears. Not of slipping to #8 or anything absurd like that, but genuine concerns that I dwell on, that keep me up at night. For example, I have seen many thousands of Semipalmated Plovers...could one of those have been a Common Ringed Plover? Talk about a bird that would be easy to overlook...at any rate, this is a standard Semipalmated.

In August, the mudflats at this park were inundated by Least Terns, mostly from the nearby Alameda colony (I assume) but possibly from elsewhere in the bay. I counted 190 individuals one day at the beginning of August, which to me is a staggering number to see away from a breeding colony. There were a lot of juveniles around (which is good news, as Least Terns are federally listed in the state) and a lot of strange looking molting birds, like this one. Almost no tail on this bird...why????

This fresh juvenile was not confusing, only encouraging. It was good to see Least Terns in something other than alternate plumage, because they get the hell out of dodge almost as soon as breeding is complete so it's not often we get to see much variation in these birds, beyond full alternate. I'm sure I've already seen my last Least Terns of the year already...it's been real.

A great many Western Sandpipers use San Francisco Bay during migration, which I am very grateful for. Here is a typical juvenile male, showing rusty scapulars and a relatively short bill. I've spent an inordinate amount of time this fall sorting through Westerns, looking for a Semipalmated, as it would be a year bird and I've never been able to find one in the bay area...how embarrassing. The search has been in vein, but the search for other vague runts continues.

Now that I think about it, I've spent a not insignificant part of my life sorting through Western Sandpipers. I'm ok with that. It's more enjoyable than sorting through Least Sandpipers.

Ah, the homely Least Sandpiper. They don't get a lot of love. If someone asked you, "What would you rather, have American Redstarts go extinct or have Least Sandpipers go extinct", you know you would pick the sandpiper over the vast majority of other birds. It's not their fault they are so drab and abundant, and they certainly aren't obnoxious or anything. They're just being Least Sandpipers. I liked the cracked mud this one was coursing over. 

Now that I've lulled you to sleep with common birds, how about something else...do you see a godwit (the startling pale one...on the left) that is not like the others? Bolinas Lagoon, Bolinas, CA.

Bolinas Lagoon hosted this Bar-tailed Godwit for about a week, which we were able to see from Highway 1. I've only seen one in the state before, so when Peter Pyle reported this bird, the drool started flowing in earnest. Though it never came particularly close, the bird readily stood out from the Marbleds, even at great distance. Seeing a Sibe always feels like a major accomplishment, and this bird brought the warm and fuzzy rarity endorphins I knew it would. Also present were a Ruddy Turnstone (oddly, somewhat of a rarity in Marin) and a fantastically distant golden-plover, which Peter and others had previously identified as an American.

A lone Long-billed Curlew provided the godwitting birders close company on the shore of the lagoon. Sibley notes "goose-like wingbeats" and "foraging movements graceful"; neither of these thoughts have ever occurred to me, though I won't go on record as denying them.

Perhaps he will note "forceful bellowing" in the next edition.

A July Shorebird Cake With Stint Frosting

July. Birders have four options in July...if they are fortunate enough to have the right habitats nearby, they go to the mountains, or go to the mudflats. If these habitats are unavailable, they either don't bird at all, or optimistically (some do so abysmally) bird through it, noting newly fledged young and what species the local cowbird population has successfully parasitized. In much of California, after a quick two week break in late June, we don't have to suffer through a hot, boring, and brutal July...we can get back to the business of searching for interesting my grunts...that's right, the fall vague runt window is suddenly thrown open after a brief reprieve, and all of a sudden a birder may sort through peeps like a kid in a candy store. Southbound shorebirds begin returning in late June, and by the second week of July a birder can go out to a favored shorebird spot and see thousands of birds.

After managing to avoid the site (not purposefully) for years, I finally visited Frank's Dump, a great shorebird site along the bay in Alameda County. The impoundment was absolutely packed with shorebirds, including over 100 Red Knots, which you can see above mixed in with similarly-colored dowitchers. This is the most knots I've ever seen in California, quite an impressive showing for this normally uncommon species.

Western Sandpipers were back in force, there were thousands. My attempts at picking out a Semipalmated proved futile again; I have yet to see one anywhere in the bay area, for some reason. In typical fashion, someone saw one shortly before I arrived. I still have many weeks left of prime Semipalmated Sandpiper time, so maybe this will finally be the year. Semipalmateds have always been of unusual interest to me, probably because that was one of the first "rare" birds I got adept at finding and identifying when I was a sniveling little bastard teenager.

This crisply marked Least Sandpiper endured only minimal wear and tear on its way south from Alaska or wherever the fuck its from. Who knows? It could be bound for Peru, the Galapagos...the world is your oyster when you are a Least Sandpiper.

As much fun as it is to muse about where Least Sandpipers may or may not be going, that is not why I found myself at Frank's Dump. No one goes to Frank's Dump just to look at Least Sandpipers, as far as I know, and if anyone does please tell me all about it.

Right. July is not just to be celebrated for the return of shorebirds, it is to be celebrated because it is the best month of the year to find stints in California. This Red-necked Stint was kind enough to follow the flightpath of misoriented stints of the past, and gave some good looks although it never came close enough for a reasonable photo. But unlike the photogs lying in the mud (literally), I was able to enjoy the bird through a scope.

This was just the third Red-necked Stint I've ever seen, the first being a juvenile on Buldir Island (AK) and my deucer being another adult on the Los Angeles River. This was a brilliant, glowing bird, a true gasper if that is possible for a peep. It was very easy to pick out from the nearby Western Sandpipers; aside the reddish-orange face, the contrasting bright white belly made it easy to locate as well. At one point a bright alternate Sanderling landed next to it, looking surprisingly similar in plumage, but not in size and structure.

What a year its been in northern California for shorebirds...Marsh Sandpiper, Purple Sandpiper, Little (the one in Santa Clara and one just reported in Del Norte) and Red-necked Stints! As August has just arrived, I am hoping out incredible run of vague runt shorebirds will continue. What's next? Lesser Sand-Plover? Common Ringed Plover? Spotted Redhank? Gray-tailed Tattler? The potential for Sibe shorebirds to show up in California has almost no ceiling. Maybe that Black-tailed Godwit I've been waiting for will finally come our way.

Of course, most of the birds here are not Sibes, and have no idea that Siberia even exists. This worn American Avocet is one of those birds.

Unlike other shorebirds, young avocets like this one molt into something that closely resembles an adult in alternate plumage when they lose their down. Why that is, I could not tell you, but then again stilts and avocets are not in the same family as sandpipers, which all attain a unique (if sometimes indistinct) juvenile plumage that they retain through the fall.

The Elsie Roemer sanctuary is one of a handful of Alameda (city) sites that gets much attention from birders, who go for the shorebirds. Terns use the site as well. This time of year there are lots of Forster's (above) and Caspian Terns flying around with fish, trailed by not only their offspring but sometimes the offspring of other terns as well.

Young terns may beg for fish for an extended period after fledging; we often hear the plaintive begging of young Elegant Terns (which also just returned, not pictured here) well into fall.

Black-bellied Plovers are back in large numbers. Most are already shedding their slick black underparts in favor of doomy gray duds. It was fun while it lasted.

This bird was missing a foot, which look like it came off a while ago. I wonder how many north to south migrations this bird has completed while handicapped. If you think that is impressive, I once saw a Snowy Plover with NO FEET, true story. I think these birds can often overcome major injuries, as long as their wings stay intact.

Back at the beginning of the month, Felonious Jive went up to Humboldt County to attend the wedding of ASOC and Nice Lady, both very important figures in his life. Felonious reported getting quite drunk and having a good time. He also took a few shitty photos at the Arcata Marsh, which I will include here because why not?

This Great Egret caught a nice scuplin, and did the typical wader thing of shaking and bludgeoning it and flipping it around in its bill until it worked up the courage to swallow it.

The egret eventually gulped the sculpin down once it was good and slathered in mud, and continued on its merry way.

A male Norther Harrier hunting over the marsh flew by with some hapless young bird. I may be #7, but not even I can ID the prey item. Felonious told me he knows what it is, but won't tell me. Asshole.

Vaux's Swifts were abundant that day, and as usual were almost impossible to photograph due to being fast. This tattered bird is the first Vaux's Swift to make it onto BB&B, where we welcome it with open arms.

A Northern Red-legged Frog made an appearance in its usual spot at the side of the log pond. It is a handsome frog.

Well, hopefully that was enough of a shorebird onslaught to hold you over for a while. Next up, I started a new state list a couple weeks ago, and there was a lot of good birding put into that list. For the first time, I took BB&B and several of our interns to...Colorado!

Apalling Postage Rates...A Detour For Cripple...Confronting and Lurking

That's it. Fall is over. Birds like Prothonotary Warblers are a thing of the past. High vagrant season is dead in much of the country. How was it for you? It was mighty fine for myself, thanks for asking. Sure I couldn't chase the Groove-billed Ani, and no I didn't skip work for the White Wagtail, and yes I hate the Northern Gannet...but at least there wasn't an Olive-backed Pipit taunting me down in Irvine. Lifers were had, a state bird was enjoyed, and rare birds found themselves in my binoculars on the regular.

That all said, I find my frequency/infrequency of blog posts appalling. What I've been doing...it's just not enough. This 40 hour workweek stuff...it's horseshit. Talk about a blogging obstacle. The Perpetual Weekend certainly seems like a thing of the past now...can you believe people actually like doing this prolonged and sustained wage slavery? Sure it can be great if you can get outside enough, but that is not what I'm doing. Anyways, I feel guilty about the blogging apathy so I had to get that out. I guess I just have to relax and think about Prothonotary Warblers.

Prothonotary Warbler is a nice thing to think about, but an even better thing to be looking at. This was an excellent bonus bird. I woke up in Oakland one morning, took BART to San Francisco, looked at a Mourning Warbler, took BART back to Oakland, then drove down to Santa Barbara for the night. This crippler was just a few miles off the freeway in Goleta, and cripple it did. Detours are best when your face is left melted off.

Look. It's devouring something.

One thing that SoCal has that the bay area seems to be lacking in is lerps. Lerps are psyllids that live off Eucalyptus, which is fine because Eucs are not native and lerps attract rare birds. The psyllid nymps excrete this crud that ends up making a white, sugary capsule on a leaf, and insectivores are all about it. Maybe the weather is not lerpy enough up here, or perhaps it's just a matter of time before they arrive in force.

Gulf fritillary is an attractive (bordering facemelting, actually), common butterfly in SoCal; it is one of the first butterflies I learned to identify as a kid. Cool story, I know. Ventura, CA.

Cooper's Hawk is a common bird, but they are much appreciated when they abide. You already know this, of course. Ormond Beach, Oxnard, CA.

Here is a dead Lincoln's Sparrow. The yellow thing on its head is a yellowjacket, which is contentedly eating the sparrows face. The sparrow was out in the middle of a dry pond and looked like it was in good condition aside from the missing head flesh. What is most notable about the mysterious corpse-sparrow is that, about an hour and a half after taking this photo, I SAW A FUCKING DUSKY WARBLER. A Dusky Warbler! So rare! So Siberian! A life bird! I predictably got poor looks, but at least I saw its rare face and got to hear its Vague Runt voice over and over again. There had not been a chaseable one in the state for a number of years, so this was an immensely appreciated new bird for me...a true birder's bird. Redwood Creek, Marin County, CA.

Black-bellied Plover is a not a birder's bird, as they are loud, relatively large, and extremely common. The question is, how come I can never crush them like this when they are in alternate plumage? Do they just know to be more coy when they ditch their dingy winter suit? That's what it seems like. Arrowhead Marsh, Oakland, CA.

This Grasshopper Sparrow surprised me when it hopped up on the paved sidewalk. Hanging out a stone's throw away from San Francisco Bay is not appropriate for a Grasshopper Sparrow, but this was a very inappropriate bird. Photographed at Arrowhead Marsh.

I hella like Grasshopper Sparrows and other grassland birds in general, especially after my time in North Dakota. They really know how to work the Economy of Style visually, if not vocally (see meadowlarks, Sprague's Pipit, Upland Sandpiper, etc.).

As most birders in this half of the state know by now, Arrowhead Marsh is the place to go to see Ridgway's Rail. It's just so...easy. They saturate the place. All the loud, grunting in unison...it's just punishing.

Ridgway's Rails may like to hang in the cover of thick saltmarsh, but when they come out (which they inevitably do) they can be pretty accommodating. Being confronted with Ridway's Rails is a pleasurable experience, considering how endangered this subspecies is and the small range they occupy, which is essentially San Francisco Bay.

Lurking.

The Antibirder...Sunsick...Moronic and Crazed...Scumbag Birders Stick Together

Within the last month, I have seen a paltry 9 warbler species here in the bay area...although this is very embarrassing, it's not completely my fault. Townsend's Warbler is one of the few species I am cursed to see regularly. It's worth mentioning that this was shot at 3200 ISO on my newish D7000, looks deec if you ask me. Golden Gate Park, San Francisco, CA.

It's been a quick, strange fall this year. Life changes both inside and outside of the realms of birding...and the more I bird, the more grateful I am to have a life outside of the realm of birding. So many birders are not as lucky...but it is hard to weep for those who take something so humorous/fun/nerdy so deadly seriously. It has become vividly clear that a lot of birders seek a kind of birder antihero to illuminate a brighter path of birding for those still groping through the darkness...but who will it be? Of course, it is also pertinent to distinguish between the antibirder (antihero) and birding antichrist, of which there are already several.

So what's new? It is the weather. There is too much sun. Too much northwest winds. Where is our fall marine layer???? It has been a pathetic year for vagrant passerines in the bay area...I've seen a few fun migrants (Blackburnian Warbler, Prairie Warbler, American Redstart, Indigo Bunting), but it's been very slow in general. The birders offshore on Southeast Farallon Island, normally a vagrant magnet, have had one of the worst years on record in terms of finding rare birds out there. They weep daily, even though they get to see Northern Gannet and Blue-footed Boobies together all the time. The good word has it that they have resorted to trying to befriend a Sandhill Crane that has settled on the island, whom may or may not be lapping up their tears for sustenance.

Speaking of boobies, they are still happening. I have now seen them in both Marin and San Francisco Counties this fall, which I would really be excited about if I was a county lister (I'm usually not). Call me old-fashioned, but I just like looking at boobies, even if they are too far to crush. Their northward "push" seems to have stalled out, but they are still regularly being seen in the bay area.

Wilson's Storm-Petrels have been seen with regularity in storm-petrel flocks in Pioneer Canyon and Cordell Bank this year, but if you really want looks at them, go to the east coast. This ambitious bird grabbed a chunk of chum from off the stern of the Stormy Petrel II, off Hatteras, NC.

Laysan Albatross was a bird I really wanted to get on a Shearwater Journeys boat this year...as you can see, the bird gods answered my repeated blood sacrifices. This is a fresh juvenile...I've heard a number of birders suggest that the Laysans found off the coast of California are from the Mexican population, but I haven't seen any actual evidence of that. Photographed off Half Moon Bay, CA.

Unlike the relatively poor passerine scene, seabirding has been very good this fall for me. Two Cape Hatteras trips in August (seven lifers and an ABA bird) and leading on seven Shearwater Journeys boats (a state bird and great birds and whales in general) has been more than fruitful for me. Uncommon and rare shearwaters have been seen with regularity off the central coast this year (Great, Manx, Flesh-footed), and storm-petrels have put on an amazing show in a couple places. Too bad I wasn't able to get it on the Craveri's Murrelet and Least Storm-Petrel action off San Diego this fall, but even Number 7 can only be in one place at a time. The pelagic season will be winding down soon, so get on a boat when you can!

So many crucial birding spots are found on federal land...but they are no longer options, thanks to the profoundly ignorant/crazed/moronic Tea Party and their allies. So, we must find birds like this White-faced Ibis on state, municipal and private lands...it's an interesting challenge, to have a "handicapped" arsenal of hotspots to choose from, but not exactly fun in early October. Photographed on state property at Yolo Bypass Wildlife Area, Davis, CA.

The government shutdown is bad for everyone, and lets face it, birders have it the worst. How are we supposed to bird national wildlife refuges? National parks? I am supposed to be going to Yosemite National Park in a few days, and guess what? Not fucking happening...life is pain. Those Great Gray Owls will just have to wait, and my heart grows blacker every day. It is a known fact that if one goes too long without seeing a Great Gray Owl, their life becomes futile. In fact, that is why most human beings die.

The best place to consistently find Pacific Golden-Plover in the bay area is Schollenberger Park in Petaluma. If they are around, they are not difficult to distinguish from Black-bellied Plovers...I don't think I need to tell you which of the above birds is of the golden variety. Schollenberger is lit up brightly on the new eBird Hotspot Explorer, reflecting the good number of species recorded there over the years.

Have you peeped the eBird Hotspot Explorer yet? Give it a look. This long overdue new chapter of eBird lets one conveniently find and compare different hotspots...I think I will be putting it to use in the near future. This is an excellent tool for scouting out places to bird in an area you are unfamiliar with, and may assist researchers in examining sites with differing degrees of species diversity.

Pygmy Nuthatch is a bird. It is not a rare bird, but it is a good bird. In this area, an abundant bird. Despite a full day of local terrestrial birding with Nate from This Machine Watches Birds, I could not get him on any of these things. Blue-footed Booby? No problem. Vaux's Swift? Ok. Eurasian Wigeon? Sure. One of the most abundant birds in the area? No. Photographed someplace we did not bird...Sutro Heights Park, San Francisco, CA.

Lastly, it's been a great fall for migrant birders in the bay area, with lots of old and new friends being observed in the area (often on pelagic trips). I'm grateful to be located someplace that sees so many shining/disgusting examples of humanity drop by regularly, especially since I don't bird with anyone who lives here! So thanks to all of you who have stopped by for birding, raging, etc., and I look forward to crossing paths again soon....scumbag birders must stick together, or else our weird kind may be wiped out completely.