A Lewis's expedition Saturday Nov 19 2013

When I got up a Great Horned Owl was hooting outside the window.   Owls in mythology supposedly were symbols for impending death, but for myself they always foretell an awakening of the spirit within, as my senses suddenly become sharp with keen interest.  Today I also took it to be a sign of good birds to be seen this day, in which my friend Paul and myself had planned on canvassing our neighborhood for any new migrating specialties.   As mentioned earlier Paul is a sharp birder who seems find incredible birds on his wanderings in mostly under-birded habitats.

We met at woodland road and decided to bird that area first.   A Lewis's Woodpecker had been seen only five miles from here and I wanted to see if any were around the pecan groves along this stretch.  We drove until we came upon a large group of blackbirds, and decided to stop and look for any cowbirds in the flock, or other surprise.   I noticed a semi-large dark bird with fat wings pass by, and thought I caught a glimpse of gray on the nape before it disappeared.  Luckily it flew back and we saw the deep reddish coloration on the belly as well, distinguishing the first Lewis's Woodpecker for the season (and year) in the neighborhood, and apparently only the second one reported for the season in southeast Arizona.  

Red-shafted Flickers, Ladder-backed Woodpeckers, and a Red-naped Sapsucker were also seen on our walk along the road.  A woodpecker flew overhead which had much red on the upper chest and had us scratching our heads as to whether it could be the rare Red-breasted Sapsucker.  We did also find 2 Brown-headed Cowbirds and a Yellow-Headed Blackbird in with the flock of Brewer's Blackbirds, European Starlings, Great-tailed Grackles, and Red-winged Blackbirds.  
Paul also spotted a late or overwintering White-winged Dove.   In a couple hours we had seen 33 species in the rural habitat.  Our last addition was a beautiful Prairie Falcon on top of a Eucalyptus.  

After a break we went to the cattail pond.   At first it wasn't too birdy, but we did see Green-winged Teal, a belted Kingfisher, and 2 Red-naped Sapsuckers on a well-drilled Eucalyptus tree (sapsuckers drill horizontal rows of holes in trees, feeding on the sap and insects attracted to the sugary feast).   As we circled back along the back edge of the pond a Ruby-crowned Kinglet sang out, and was joined by another and a Plumbeous Vireo.  

As we entered a field area bordering the pond it seemed we broke through to another dimension, the "birding zone."  Lincoln's Sparrows flew from underfoot, Orange-crowned Warblers and one Black-throated Gray Warbler foraged in the mesquites, a House Wren scolded from the understory, and Green-tailed and Abert's Towhees called.   A Harris's Hawk looked down from a high snag.  I told Paul that some ten years back I would sometimes find Grasshopper Sparrows in this grassy cienega-like stretch of habitat.  

It flew up from the grass in front of us just like the Lincoln's Sparrows, but something was different about this bird.   It landed too far for our binoculars to register so I quickly focused the scope on this flat-headed Sparrow.  I was elated as I watched the buffy colored sparrow with the bold eye-ring.  It's back was intricately textured with sharp black and rich brown highlights, and light-tipped accents to the wing covers.  The yellowish spot before the eye also confirmed we were watching a Grasshopper Sparrow, a rarity around the city.  We managed

to get closer looks at the bird, and I finally managed a halfway decent photo of this beautiful unexpected surprise!  

Our last bird was another beauty, an Osprey surveying the lake for a fishy feast!   Thank you for your appreciation of our incredible wildlife marvels right in our own neighborhood!

Superatural Laws of birding/naturewatching

In my limited experience with birding and nature watching I've come to understand that there are certain seemingly supernatural yet unexplained coincidences with regard to many exciting finds.  I will try to list some of these I've discovered along the way.  Perhaps you can identify with some of these in your own wanderings.  

Observations from an amateur, yet lucky, nature enthusiast.  

A rare bird is more likely to show up after you've studied them intensely.   In other words,the more prepared you are to identify a bird the better your chance of seeing that particular specie.  Our neighborhood sparrow list is pretty diverse, partly due to my desire to figure out identification tips on this group of birds.  I highly recommend the book "Sparrows of the United States and Canada," By David Beadle and James Rising.  

Thinking about a species increases the chance you will see it in the near future.   Talking about it to a friend increases the chances even more.   One of the practices which helped me build my neighborhood list (over 240 species) is to go through the species accounts in the back of the latest edition of "Finding Birds in Southeast Arizona."   The accounts show that anything is possible when it comes to vagrants in unexpected areas.  For example, who would believe a Snow Bunting from the Arctic would show up in Arizona!  I remember talking to my friend Mark about the possibility of a Sage Sparrow in our neighborhood, which seemed unlikely since there were no records in Tucson.   A couple years later on my bike commute home I was stunned to  find a Sage Sparrow in our field by the woodland road!  Now that this species has recently split I'll have to revisit my video to verify it is the a Sagebrush Sage Sparrow or the even rarer Bell's Sparrow. (video on July 2012 post) 

Be curious-study everything including the seemingly ordinary.  Some of the best finds were almost passed over as ordinary birds.   But once they were in the bins my eyes would widen with discovery!  Like the probable mockingbird which was a Yellow-billed Cuckoo!

The best way to find a rare species is to be still.   This is my most difficult reality.  It goes against my thinking to stay still for ten minutes and just watch and listen.   Yet whenever I do the birds respond, revealing themselves in a spectacular display.   Of course it helps to be in good habitat, but it could happen anywhere!

A rare bird is always a surprise.   I am always astonished by each new bird I see since it just happens so unexpectedly.   Like the Sage Thrasher that popped up on a fence while walking the wash.     

A genuine appreciation for everything you see increases your chances to see something magical!  I make a point to stop and appreciate the Arizona Sycamore in our neighborhood, and, although I don't expect anything, I almost always come across something interesting afterward. 

Even an hour of birding can turn up a rarity.   I remember twice in 2009 going to the cattail pond for just a half hour with Mrs S.  On one short visit a Prothonotary Warbler made an appearance in the cattails.   On the other a Mexican Jay called out from the cove's shoreline.  

Being thankful for what you've seen already can create a positive energy which brings in more exciting finds.   Again, this is tied to appreciation of everything, especially everything natural.   But I must say that the gratitude must be genuine and selfless.  

Visiting other types of habitats will tend to bring birds from that ecosystem to your neighborhood.  I can't explain this effect except to say that, for one reason or another, when I visit another area, such as Mount Lemmon, it seems one or more of its birds "follows," me home to be seen within weeks of the excursion.   

The worst weather brings the best birds.    Any weather change should be noteworthy for birds, but the worst storms bring the best birds.   I find this particularly true in winter, when snow in the mountains can drive species down to the valley.  

Always foster the attitude, "Anything is possible!"  Because when it comes right down to it, anything is possible, any time.   A Red-footed Falcon can show up in the Northeastern US, and a Rufous-necked Wood Rail can show up in New Mexico!  Or a Sabine's Gull, which tends to migrate over oceans, can show up at our lakes!

Rare birds tend to show up with similar species.   For example, our habitat is conducive to Cassin's and Western Kingbirds in great numbers, so it makes sense to see Tropical Kingbird as well.   If an area is popular with buntings, watch for Painted Bunting!   

The Rare Bird Effect.   One rare bird found in an area can spring more unusual sightings just based on the increase of birders to the area.   My earlier post on "2009, a Good Year," explains this more completely.   More recently, my friend Paul discovered a Rufous-backed Robin at a local park, which led to a discovery of a Magnolia Warbler, which led to the discovery of a Red-shouldered Hawk!

Do you have a natural or supernatural, law you would like to share.  Thank you for your appreciation of our local, uncommon and common,  wildlife.

Nightly Kino walks Oct 16 2013

Kino and I did our nightly routine again, and the Lesser Nighthawk graced us with its presence again.   The insects were not as numerous around the lights though, so we will have to appreciate its nightly flights while we can.  Last night the flight pattern was reminiscent of a ladle being dipped repeatedly into a bowl of soup as it scooped up insects crowded about the artificial light.  Tonight the pattern was more of a wide circular arc.   

On the previous two nights I also heard a strange owl's screech which made me think "Barn Owl," yet could not rule out a juvenile Great Horned Owl.   I scanned the skies intently both nights for a ghostly white figure.   

This morning I discovered a scorpion in our shower.  Much as I disagree with animal relocation I took the exception, and, after trapping it in one of Mrs. S's Chai cans, relocated it, to our back yard.  

Tonight on my bike commute home I birded the woodland road, then the field and pond just before dark.   To give an idea of the birds here this time of year here is the list.  

The woodland Road (15 min)

1 Verdin

4 House Finch

3 Gila Woodpecker

1 Red-tailed Hawk

5 Vermilion Flycatchers

60 Mourning Doves

1 Yellow-Rumped Warbler

5 Turkey Vultures

2 Lesser Goldfinch

1 Abert's Towhee

1 American Kestrel

1 Eurasian Collared Dove

Field and Lake  (25 min)

1 Phainopepla

7 Gambel's Quail

6 House Finch

2 Lesser Goldfinch

2 Red-tailed Hawks

1 Pyrrhuloxia or Northern Cardinal female

5 Brewer's Sparrow

2 Lincoln's Sparrow

2 Green-tailed Towhee

5 White-crowned Sparrow-Gambeli (Gambel's race)

2 White-crowned Sparrow-Orianthi  (Mountain race)

2 Mourning Doves

1 Gila Woodpecker

1 House Wren

2 Northern Shoveler 

68 Mallard Duck

1 Mexican Mallard Duck 

22 American Wigeon

1 Great Blue Heron

3 possible Green-winged Teal (teal-like with apparent tail stripe but not distinct)-too dark outside.

Thank you for appreciating our wintering neighborhood wildlife!

It's a long, long road

This weekend was spent mostly in the yard getting brush out to the curb for the biyearly bulk pickup in our neighborhood.   By the end of Saturday my shoulders were bruised from carrying logs and arms were sore from all the heavy sawing with the pruning saw.    One of the items brought out was a heavy, yet broken cement bird bath base.  This was soon returned when Mrs. S informed me it was an antique.  She is an expert on thrifting, arts and crafts, and I do remember carrying that a good half mile through the desert when first found.  It seems the heaviest items are always the most valued, at least when I'm there to carry it.   I remember once birding a wash with a friend and coming across a solid cement bench support with a design in it.   I told him I'd better carry it out since "It's cumbersome and heavy, so she'll love it.   She did and it now adorns our back yard.  At least in exchange she agreed not to accidentally put any of my personal belongings in the garbage or bulk pickup (such moose antlers, found only after hiking up a swampy trail for over 3 miles in Baxter State Park).

Mrs S. had to work this weekend but it was just as well since it is difficult to navigate the yard without inadvertently stepping on a planting.    I missed having Kino out there "supervising," from the porch like previous years, but at least he was in good spirits and alert.  On Sunday morning just as we headed to the lake an Osprey came into view, and I thought how lucky I was to be able to see this majestic animal from my driveway.   Despite Kino's apparent aversion to bird watching, he allows me to slow down and see more.   Once I even counted 41 species of birds during our 3/4 mile walk.

After an intense afternoon of work I carried Kino over to the lake again.   It was a windy evening and he loves windy days like I love watching wildlife.   When we got there he contently lay down, the breeze bristling his beautiful white mane.   I lay back next to him, immersed in the sereneness of the moment, watching the stars, and a satellite which slowly crossed over the sky.  I wondered if I would be able to appreciate these moments without Kino.   I gathered it just wouldn't be the same without him there to share the experience.   

Kino (Pic from another post)

I was happy to see the Lesser Nighthawk again despite the lateness of the season.  It's flight was different tonight, as it glided swiftly for long distances on the seemingly icy surface.  Even its flaps were hurried.   I wondered if it was a sign that his time here was short despite the thousands of bugs at the lights.  All it takes is one day of frost to put a damper on the food supply.  That could happen any day-time was short.  I silently wished him good luck on his impending journey.  

After a half hour or so Kino indicated he wanted to get up so I pushed against his hind quarters as he struggled.  He did walk about twenty yards with breaks in between, where he would lean against my leg for stability.   I get the feeling Kino is ready for his journey but I am still not ready for him to go just yet.   I'm the one pushing him to stay for another day, another week, another month.   He obliges because he knows how important it is to me, his friend, his brother.   

It was getting late and I knew the kitties would be waiting at the door for him to return, as they always do.   I knelt down and picked him up, then set off toward home.  He gave me a dog's hug, pushing his neck against mine, his chin resting on the back of my shoulders as he looked behind me into the darkness.  In a well of emotion I was suddenly reminded of an old yet enduring favorite tune by The Hollies,  "He ain't Heavy...."
The Hollies "He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother."

   

It was Late one Winter Night-flashback

It was 1990, towards the beginning of my wildlife awakenings.   Looking back I wonder if I knew more then than now, at least regarding nature.   It was a time when coyotes were still scarce in many parts of the northeast, and sometimes not welcome.  I would make special trips to the Pound Ridge Reservation, scanning the fields for a glimpse of these amazing hunters, looking very wolf-like in their heavy winter coats.   I was also shaking off layers of teachings from my youth which did not fit with my new understanding of wildlife.   I was mostly alone in my quest for natural teachings, yet it also made each lesson more memorable and distinct.   Hope your enjoy this poem in the style of "Twas the Night before Christmas," in a time when childhood myths were being broken down in my mind, revealing a course of thought based on experience, not hearsay or fairy tale.

                                     A COYOTE COMES ON A WINTER NIGHT

It was late one winter night,
and all through the  woods,
only a few Deer were stirring
from the field where I stood.

As I walked into the Darkness
they vanished like Ghosts.
But it wasn't the deer
I wanted to see most.

It's the mysterious Owl,
as silent as the wind.
I would imitate mouse squeaks
to lure that hunter in. 

I crouched in tall grass, 
my calls were so nice, 
though there's another predator
who's attracted to mice.

He came like a flash

Appreciating natural firework displays

It was a Monday night  (9-23) and I was hanging out with Kino on the lawn by the lake.  Most of the time I carry him over now due to his mobility constraints, but he seems to like the ride, and one block is not far for his 60 pounds.  He does walk in the grass a little once we're there, but mostly wants to lie down and enjoy the scenery.   Tonight I had arrived home late so it was already dark when we left.  He lay down sideways and lay his head on my lap, and we enjoyed the cool night breeze of early Autumn in the desert. 

The low night lights of the recreation center were already attracting moths.  As I watched a Lesser Nighthawk came into view, and I was thankful for seeing this bird after many had already left for the winter.   After a time I lay back and stared at the stars.  Every once in a while it seemed a fine short streak of gray would pass so quickly it made me wonder if I had seen anything at all.  After a few instances I was sure these streaks were in fact meteors, however brief their stay.   I had sat up again when the sky seemed to light up as a meteor streaked on a long burning course to the Catalina Mountains.   It was the longest lasting meteor I had ever seen, and the lowest against the horizon.   It's flame split and sputtered like a firework toward the end of its path, and I felt sure a piece could have made it to the ground somewhere in the city.  

It was Saturday the 28th just around dusk.   I am conversing with my neighbor when a bright light shoots across the sky.  It was amazing since it was still light out, yet this meteor was still bright enough to be seen clearly.  Afterward I carried Kino to the lake.  The tennis court lights are on, and I see our the underwings of our lone nighthawk illuminated as it circles about like a figure skater on an invisible surface of ice.  It was the first I'd seen him since our other meteor experience.   It felt like a case of deja vu, in reverse.   I watched, thankful for the chance to see and appreciated the natural gifts provided every day for those willing to stop, watch, and listen.  Thank you for your appreciation of our wildlife.