Counting on birds and having a garden party

Friday night I forgot to take out money for bus fare home on Friday, so I was forced to ride the bike.  Naturally it rained that afternoon, but luckily I missed the heavier dousing.   Sometimes after the first heavy rain of the monsoon the wildlife seems to come alive in celebration, and you can feel the excitement in the air while walking the trails.  Birds are singing, raptors are hunting, mammals are cruising about in the open, and reptiles are foraging.

Even though this rain wasn't enough to wake the toads from their underground homes, it was the most significant rain so far.  I decided to head out for my quarterly bird survey of our neighborhood, which needs to be completed in the month of July.  I will sometimes wait for the end of the month when there is more migrants but hoped  this time to catch some late nesters instead.  Perhaps I would even run across the slightly out of season Blue-winged Teal seen Friday morning on the way to the bus stop. 

Bronzed Cowbird (4-17-11) 

As is usual I planned on getting out just before dawn, hopefully being able to include Lesser Nighthawks in my days tally.  Not unexpectedly I was not the early bird who gets the nightjar, just leaving the house after 5:30 AM.  The big pond was active, and I counted about 18 bird species in a five minute point count, which isn't shabby for a summer count.   Tropical Kingbirds trilled their metallic trill, and a Cassin's Kingbird chimed in as well, ordering me to "Come Here!"    Later I heard a drawn out squeak and spotted the puffed stance of a Bronzed Cowbird, its shape noticeable at quite a distance.   


Although there was not many migrants as of yet it was nice to see Lucy's Warblers and Bell's Vireos about in good numbers still.  These two birds tend to clear out early, or become silent, making them hard to detect.  
The next morning I would pay the price later for late and not starting the survey until 6:30.  But good birds were about including a couple Cooper's Hawks at the first station, one of which was chased off by Western Kingbirds.   Kingbirds in general will not miss an opportunity to harass and accipiter, and I worry for their safety each time I see our rare Tropical Kingbirds chasing fearlessly after a Cooper's Hawk. 

My second stop was by a large Eucalyptus, which had a chattery Bullock's Oriole and a Blue Grosbeak in its foliage.   Walking to my next transect a Tropical Kingbird gave a few short metallic calls, and a Bewick's Wren belted out in song.   A few minutes into the next count a large raptor flew up before me and my initial thought of Red-tail disappeared as I noticed the two-toned appearance of the underside of the wings, dark remiges (flight feathers) and creamy wing coverts (the meaty part of the wing per se).   I've only seen this raptor a handful of times in our neighborhood so it was a real treat.  They are an early migrant but are usually soar high while migrating and are difficult to spot. 

Three Great Horned Owls were seen roosting during the survey, two of which would have been missed if they weren't being mobbed by songbirds.   The metallic "chink," of one of the mobsters had me puzzled as to whether it was an angry cardinal or Pyrrhuloxia, or a more likely Blue Grosbeak.  It never revealed it's true nature by emerging from hiding in the mesquite, but a Blue Grosbeak did belt out a song further up the wash. 

The heat was now getting to be unbearable, but a calling Northern Beardless Tyrannulet brought some relief to my soul if not to my body.   I stopped to visit my friend the lone Arizona Sycamore, sharing a toast of some of my valuable water, and collecting seeds to distribute in other areas of the wash.   My final stop I struggled to lift my eyes up to the burning sky for soaring raptors, and the five minutes standing in the open seemed like an hour.   It was only 10:30 but I felt like I'd been traveling through the heat for days, and staggered back home, my ears feeling like they were being tickled with a lighted match.  







After an early lunch and nap I completed some yard work.  As I puttered around the yard we received visitors from a Bullock's Oriole, Northern Mockingbird, Abert's Towhee, and Phainopepla.  A Verdin shuttled between our hummingbird feeders and our blooming wildflowers in its search for food.  

Verdin 3-17-11

 I planted 9 more desert plants in our back yard, anticipating the huge thunderhead I'd seen on the way home would surely water them shortly.  The fresh compost from our wood scraps over the past six months smelled of musky rich soil, and I was able to dig up enough for all the new plants.  The plants all seemed happy to be out of their pots and into their permanent home in our yard.  The thunder rolled throughout, its echoes reminding me of the sound of a crowd of spectators leaving the wooden gymnasium stands after a basketball game or graduation.  The storm never arrived in earnest, just teasing us with a few sprinkles, and a reminder that the only sure thing about a monsoon is its unpredictability. 

Thank you for appreciating our wild, and pleasantly unpredictable native desert wildlife.